


Cat and Mouse

by thisneedsaname



Series: Cat and Mouse [1]
Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-16 15:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5830522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisneedsaname/pseuds/thisneedsaname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're some unknown island country. Things like this don't happen to countries like you. <br/>America's your best friend. No one fucks with that. Except, of course, his aggressive and jaded 2p, whose only goal is to wreck everyone's shit (and have fun doing it).<br/>Jason is a dick, you find out quickly, and you aren't too keen on the others for a good long while. But recovery is a bitch, and you don't think you can face good ol' Al anymore.<br/>You had just wanted a break from all the yelling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little Mouse

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! so if any of yall know abt my dA u know that im a huge sucker for hetalia/reader stories yikes

You sucked in your breath sharply as you felt the cold, somewhat rusty—or was it bloody?—nails almost delicately caress your face. The baseball bat they were attached to matched the brown of your attacker’s hair, though you hadn’t seen him since he harshly threw you onto the ground—you had kept your eyes shut tight from that point out. You could feel the slow, steady drips of blood fall from said bat and land onto your face; the original source of the blood. You would’ve compared his eyes to your blood, but they were more…vibrant. They were vibrant with a cold cruelty, if you had to put it into words. Not that you really wanted to dwell on such a horrifying concept. 

You couldn’t stop a whimper as he dragged the bat down your cheek and off your jaw. You repulsed yourself; quite frankly. You were a nation, and you were strong. Military wise? Not the best, but you had the iron will of _ten fucking countries_ , this fucking _parasite_ shouldn’t be scaring you the way he was. You were a proud nation, small as you might be. You fought loud and you backed down for no one. No man alive could tell you what to do, and even your bosses sometimes had trouble controlling your headstrong personality. And now, this absolute _creep_ had broken you. 

You could practically _feel_ his smirk as it stretched across his face, the features being alighted in a rather horrendous way. The bloodlust and ill-intention rolled off in waves, assaulting your gut-sense with a constant barrage of disturbing feelings. He pressed the bat back down onto your chest, slowly adding more pressure until you squeaked. His smirk widened at that—you just knew it—and he started walking around your slightly shaking body, disturbing the rocks and debris that littered the ground around you. You were panting now, gasping for breath and letting the tears fall down your cheeks as he did so, not daring to move in fear he might do something drastic. 

Your eyes had stayed closed through the whole thing, and you wished you had kept them closed as you looked up into his eyes, silently pleading to be let go with minimal damage. His laugh was low, gruff, and very unpleasant. You re-closed your eyes and tensed as the first swing hit your ribs.

 

_A few hours earlier_

 

Rolling your eyes and leaning back, you prepared yourself for the much too long meeting to begin. As one of the first nations to arrive, you liked to get a couple minutes of rest before the louder, much rowdier nations showed their faces. As the steady flow of people arriving increased, you took your feet off the table before Germany—what was he, your mother?—could “politely” inform you to get them off (which had happened on numerous occasions). Your arms remained crossed, however, and you blew the bangs _once again_ out of your eyes. You should get them cut, but then what would you do during meetings? Exactly. 

As everything slowly—but surely—started descending into chaos, you were, _once a-fucking-gain_ , cut out. You were starting to feel as ignored as America’s twin, whatever-his-name-was. You absently wondered what he did during the meetings, but really didn’t care too much. Didn’t everyone pretty much do whatever they wanted? Okay, well, maybe not some of the larger, more well-known nations like your best friend, America. But small countries like you could pretty much do whatever; a gift and curse. 

It was during those “fuck everything let’s be assholes” times when you would get up and go for a walk around the building, smiling pleasantly to the maids who wandered by, but other than that glowering at the floor. According to tradition, now was that time. Germany was preoccupied trying to find some order, and anyone else who would care to stop you (namely: no one) was too busy fucking around themselves.

Pushing yourself up from the table, you quietly—though it really didn’t matter how loud you did it, because like you said, Germany was preoccupied and no one else cared to stop you—made your way through the throng of squirming bodies, skillfully avoiding any and all thrown projectiles. When you got out into the open hallways, you allowed a sigh of relief to escape your somewhat chapped lips. You reminded yourself to pick up some chap stick; winter was just around the corner. Wandering slowly down the grand halls of the building, you couldn’t help but feel something wasn’t quite right. 

Looking around you casually, you deduced no one was following you, but the off feeling didn’t leave. Continuing down the hall, you took a sharp turn that led into a slightly darker hall. _“How cliché,”_ you mused silently to yourself, pursing your lips as the feeling intensified. You could practically feel someone brushing up _just_ behind you.

When you felt the warm breath cascading down your neck, you jumped around and took three consecutive steps back at the same time. This would’ve looked _really fucking awesome_ , except for the fact that you were staring into the crimson eyes of Jason, a “2p”—as everyone oh so _fondly_ regarded them as—who was known for being a huge fucking dick. 

Your breath caught in your throat, and before you could continue thinking about how unoriginal this was, you were shakily hissing out something along the lines of, “If you don’t get the hell away from me _right this fucking second_ , I promise I’ll personally castrate you with a fucking rake.” 

You knew all about 2p’s, granted you had one yourself, but America and Canada’s 2ps were to be avoided _at all costs_. They weren’t too bad, in the grand scheme of things, but they loved to pick on “main” nations, such as you. Germany had pulled you aside specifically, along with a few other small nations, to warn you about them, since small ones were apparently their favourite targets. Just fucking great.

Your comment, unsurprisingly, earned a throaty chuckle from the _much larger and way more intimidating_ man in front of you, eyes flashing with both amusement and…a challenge? You weren't sure if the adrenaline pumping through your veins was distorting your perception of facial cues or if this guy was just really fucked.

“I’d like to see you try, doll face,” he all but purred out, eliciting a shiver from you. In the following seconds, quite a few things happened. To break them down, it sort of went like this:

He grabbed your cheek in his hand, moving it slightly so he could pinch your face together with his thumb and fingers, licking his lips while he did so. You, thoroughly creeped out and so not in the mood—and also not in your right mind, apparently—slapped his hand away with a disgusted grimace. 

You had never been worried about the 2ps, in reality. Most were harmless, albeit not all there, and the ones who weren’t wouldn’t bother with a small country like you, right? You were hardly noticed in the meetings for fuck’s sake! They much preferred small nations who they could use to get a reaction from the bigger nations. That wasn’t really you! Though, as his hands reached out much more aggressively, and you found yourself being tossed over his shoulder, a warning in your ear, you realized that maybe that’s _exactly_ why he wanted you. No one would notice for a month or two, at least. 

As he stalked down the halls confidently, you slung over his shoulder like some hunting prize, you resigned yourself to your fate, promising yourself that you’d run the first chance you got. 

 

_Present time_

 

You let out another choking scream, gasping for air shortly after. He didn’t relent, and another swing and more cracks told you he had cracked a few more ribs, and probably broken some too. It had felt like hours, but really he’d only been swinging at your ribs for a few minutes. 

Curling into the fetal position as he stopped for a few seconds, you barely made a sound as he stomped onto your exposed side. Your throat was raw and bleeding, and it was all you could to do throw up blood every now and again. He was getting annoyed with your silence—though it wasn’t really silence, seeing as how you were still breathing, and gasping and hurling—and so he grabbed a fistful of your hair, and yanked you to your feet; ripping a few strands free in the process.

He let go of your hair with a sick grin, and you fell to your knees. You had long run out of the strength to stand, or to fight. Now you just wanted to keep breathing. Everything he said fell on deaf ears; all his taunts, all his games. You couldn’t find it in you to care; you were just waiting for the next hit.

And it came, just like you knew it would. It snapped your neck to the side, and you were fairly sure it had been broken. The pain sure felt like it, anyways. 

The worst part wasn’t the insults, it wasn’t the beating, and it sure as hell wasn’t the pain. No, for you, the worst part was his damned smirk. It taunted you about all your worst fears, your weakness, and your very existence. You’d never seen something so twisted on another human’s face before, and you sure as hell never wanted to again. 

As he raised the bat one last time, you opened your eyes to see the smirk get bigger, more wild and crazed. Then he swung the bat down, and your world faded to black.


	2. Angry Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason doesn't like it when his brothers interfere with his toys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nice *shades emoji*

You absently wondered if Germany was going to yell at you for skipping out on so many meetings. Actually, at this point, it’d be a miracle if he didn’t throttle you. 

Having been taken somewhere to be stored after the initial assault, you had mostly spent your time trying to count days. You weren’t bound anywhere, but with the door locked and no visible windows, not to mention a million and two injuries that were definitely not healing properly, you didn’t have any real chance of escape. As far as you could tell, you’d been missing for about a month and then some. Who knows how many meetings you’d missed (hint: Germany sure as hell did).

It was on the third day of what would be your seventh week in hell when you heard the faintest echoing of footsteps. You knew instantly they weren’t Jason’s; his were loud, imposing, and threatening. These ones were lighter, more graceful, but they still held an untouchable power to them. You would’ve frowned, however you only had the pain tolerance and the energy to breathe. You weren’t sure if you were afraid or hopeful, or maybe you were just afraid to be hopeful. 

Slouched against a far corner, your position granted you a perfect view of the cold, disgustingly grey floor, and the mediocre wood door that you definitely would’ve been able to tear off its hinges if you weren’t so broken. You often figured Jason put you in this room because of that. He was an asshole that way, he really loved to torture you in any possible way he could think of. Sometimes, when you found the pain too much to sleep but not enough to make you lose consciousness, you wondered what made him this way. Because whatever it was, you swore you’d do something ten times worse as payback.

Back to the footsteps, you could hear them nearing your prison, and you—for the first time in what felt like a really long time—felt both the briefest flutter of hope and a sense of impending doom engulf your chest. What if this wasn’t your savior? What if this person was an ally to Jason? You did your best to prevent hyperventilating; it would only hurt you more at this point.

The door creaked open to reveal not one, but two people staring down at your pitiful state. 

“Oh fuck.” The larger one breathed out, staring at you with an odd look on his face. Something mixed between anger—though you could tell it wasn’t directed at you—and pity—which most definitely was—that had you wishing you could squirm uncomfortably. The shorter one hummed in agreement, though he had winced at the foul language anyway.

“Yes, it seems he went too far yet again. I have no idea how we’re going to fix this one, though. She looks worse than the guy before her; what are we going to do with that boy?” the smaller one began, looking at you with the same expression as the first guy, except his expressions were softer, more motherly. You were drawn to him right away, he promised safety when so far all you had gotten was misery.

Shorter guy was in a word, small. He was probably an inch or two shorter than you, and he dressed so tidy and had such thick black frames, not to mention his freckles and strawberry blonde hair, that he looked even tinier. The giant glowering beside him didn’t help his case at all, though.

Yeah, the giant was a lot more rugged looking than the older, shorter male beside him. Giant wore a plain grey muscle shirt under a button up—unbuttoned, of course—red and black plaid shirt, with blue jeans and black hiking boots sloppily tied to make the woodsman image complete. He had the same light purple eyes as the man beside him, however his hair was more of a dirty blonde, and was much wavier, and a lot longer. He kept it in a high pony, the bangs clipped back with a brown clip. You thought it was pretty endearing. His eyes were half-lidded, and he had bandages wrapping around his arms, shoulders, and chest. You didn’t get the same feeling of safety from him, and felt the urge to scoot away. He reminded you of Jason. 

And then the memories of who these two were slammed into you like a double decker bus. These were England and Canada’s 2ps, Oliver and Dedrick, respectively. You would’ve whimpered if you a) didn’t mind the excruciating pain that came with making noise, and b) didn’t think that that would only make matters worse.

You felt your mouth fall open slightly, and apparently that’s what brought those two back from their not-so-quiet conversation about just what they were going to do with you. Uncomfortable with the two of them staring at you and unable to do much else you looked down at your splayed out feet. You kept your eyes there as you both heard and felt them walk over, and in the back of your mind you felt a part of you cry at how much this hellhole had changed you. 

Gruffly, you were picked up bridal style by Dedrick—Canada’s 2p—and you winced at the pain it caused you. Holy shit, Jason was going to fucking pay as soon as all your broken bones and various other injuries were fixed. You’d kill that fucker if it was the last thing you did.

“Oh my, it seems it was worse than we thought. She’ll most likely need surgery and a lot of therapy to cover half of the damage done here.” Oliver’s soft voice solemnly said somewhere by your feet, obviously going over the damages your body had taken. You would’ve started sobbing on the spot, but you were just so dull, so tired, and god damn it you were so empty. You felt the slightly warm tears trickle down your cheeks, but paid them no mind—it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. 

Your biggest worry was how you were going to get away from these two new threats, and if you’d ever be able to escape the 2p’s “world” after this. You were afraid, you didn’t want to become one of them; you just wanted Germany to yell at you. 

“Who’s going to pay for that, exactly? We both know that motherfucker won’t do shit, so what do we do?” Dedrick all but bit out, glancing from your broken form to his old caretaker and back, “We can’t just…leave her, but we can’t do that much either. At most I can see us dumping her near some of the main nations and hoping she doesn’t die before they find her.” 

Before Oliver could reply, a sound that had become all too familiar for you echoed throughout the small dwelling. The unmistakable footsteps of Jason; all three occupants of the small, windowless room tensed in preparation for the upcoming strife. Unconsciously—or maybe not, who really cared at this point?—you curled closer to Dedrick, hiding your face in his chest even though it caused you great pain to do so. Not even God Himself could make you willingly look at Jason again, not after coming this close to being free. Fear of Dedrick or not, it wasn’t even a competition of who you were more willing to be dragged around by.

You knew by the way Dedrick’s grip tightened around you that Jason was in the doorway of the room. The few seconds of silence that followed before the inevitable violence broke out were filled with Jason analyzing and figuring out what was going on, and reading into the atmosphere of the room. Right before he started screaming, you felt his piercing eyes lock onto and bore holes into your back. 

“What the fuck are you guys doing in here?!” he seethed, glaring at them both, his eyes whipping between them accusingly.

“What the fuck are you doing with her, you fucking creep,” Dedrick began, taking a slight step back to keep you away from him, “you know what kind of problems will arise if the main ones find out about this! You’re gonna fuck all of us over.” 

“Nobody would’ve found out! I was gonna return her in one fucking piece, dipshit!” Jason argued. He took two steps forward for every step Dedrick took back. 

When Oliver stepped in front of him, Jason glowered down at the shorter male, towering over him and pushing him to the side with a sweep of his arm. Oliver stumbled but did not fall; righting himself only to find Jason was already pulling Dedrick closer by the collar of his shirt, with you sandwiched in between their chests, still refusing to look up at Jason.

As Oliver began moving to interfere, Jason shoved Dedrick back without warning. Surprised, and losing his footing, Dedrick fell into the wall behind the two of you, sliding down to have you more sheltered in his lap. He leaned over you slightly, telling Jason to, “Fuck off and get out of here, we need to get her somewhere else now.”

Realizing he had no other option as Oliver grabbed his elbow tightly, Jason relented and backed up a bit. “This isn’t fucking over, dipshit. She’s not gonna come out unharmed in the long run, either.” He spat his final threat before making his departure, leaving everyone in an uneasy silence. You wished you could’ve taken his threat more seriously, but every nerve in your body was _screaming_ in pain. You started gasping for breath, hoping, _praying_ that you would black out soon. 

“Well, fuck.” And just like that, Dedrick had managed to sum up the day’s events in just two words.

What kind of mess had you gotten tangled up in, anyways?


	3. Smug Possum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason's friends and family are about as charming as he is, with the exception of Oliver.
> 
> God bless Oliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0 the drama!!  
> no but seriously minor warning for sexual harassment bc alejandro is in this and hes a disgusting trash bag that i love  
> and its rly not too bad, but i know from personal experience if its not warned ahead that it can upset me

You missed Germany in ways you never thought you would. You missed North Italy, and you missed his loudmouth twin South Italy. You missed Japan, America, Egypt, you missed Seychelles and Ukraine and Hungary and for fuck’s sake you even missed Belarus (granted she wasn’t too bad if Russia wasn’t on her mind). You missed Spain, France, and Prussia and you missed their games and flirtatious ways. You missed how nice they were to you; how even when they weren’t you knew it wasn’t _personally_. 

You’d take sitting in idle silence with Hong Kong, watching Turkey and Greece fight, watch England sip his tea and pretend to be more mature than everyone, and you would definitely take Russia’s suffocating presence over spending another day with Oliver, Dedrick and Vincent. 

You didn’t mind Oliver too much; he was polite and always treated you well. There was none of that back and forth pirate-to-gentleman with him like with your England. But that was the thing, he _wasn’t_ your England. He was your other part’s England, and you were invading territories you had never wanted to (not literally, of course).

Dedrick was intimidating, sure, but he was also awkward and just had a gruff exterior. You learned (from Oliver, bless his well-meaning heart) that he really didn’t talk to many nations other than Vincent (France’s 2p), Oliver, Jason, and sometimes Edgar (Prussia’s) and Alejandro (Spain’s) if Vincent had allowed them to. And really, those guys weren’t the best people to learn how to be social from. So most times spent with Dedrick were in awkward silence with him randomly asking if you were in pain, and where, and promising to set you loose on Jason when you were better. Not that you spent much time with him to begin with, Oliver was the one you allowed yourself to be around the most.

You avoided being alone with Vincent, and the few times you saw him were not the most pleasant memories you have. Vincent was anything but charming; he always had to be so crass and so in-your-face. He told it like it was and didn’t care who he hurt in doing so. You were pretty sure he sold drugs on the side, too, not that you really minded but you were sort of afraid if a drug deal went wrong you’d get caught in the crossfire.

One occasion you remember quite clearly was only a few days after you had been rescued from Jason. You were informed you’d be living with those three—who would come and go as they pleased, though you would always have at least one other person who could match Jason in a fight with you—and seeing a “special” doctor/surgeon, as well as a “special” counselor for sessions in your room every Thursday at 3pm sharp. You knew they were trustworthy, because Oliver said so, and Oliver never lied, even when he should’ve, like when he said that at some point, Alejandro and/or Edgar would be watching over you. 

You weren’t good with being around people. You didn’t trust anyone entirely, not even sweet little Oliver. You refused to agree to letting them touch you, scratching and biting if they tried. If you had it your way, no man would ever lay a hand on you again. But of course, life just isn’t fair.

Anyways, you had walked into the kitchen in some baggy sweats and a somewhat loose t-shirt, mostly to hide all the cuts and bruises and bandages. Luckily, as a nation, you didn’t have to wear casts, and just needed the bone to be set and bandages to be put around them. Continuing on, you were making yourself something to eat, trying to do what your therapist recommended and start with the small things, like wearing a t-shirt instead of a baggy sweater. You were sure the heating bill would skyrocket at this point. As you were making your meal, you heard the door slam open, signaling to you that Vincent was back.

Dedrick had left only five minutes before, knowing Jason well enough to know he wouldn’t pull anything that quickly, and trusting that Vincent would be back exactly when he said he’d be. You called a pleasant greeting to him from the kitchen, and froze in shock when two voices accompanied his. Slowly, you picked up a knife from the knife holder, hid it casually out of sight, and made your way to the living room. 

There you were met with three large, scary, and beat up men. One you recognized as Vincent, with his shaggy white-blonde hair falling in curtains down his shoulders, and his once-5-o’clock-shadow-now-stubble making his half-lidded, crimson eyes only more intimidating.

Beside him, a darker skinned man stood with a ponytail carelessly falling down onto his chest, his striking violet eyes against the deep reddish-brown hair making you gape in awe. He had a scar from his right eyebrow down to his left jawbone, and when he caught you staring, smirked rather smugly. You immediately whipped your attention to the third member of the party. 

He was, undoubtedly, an albino. He had light pink eyes, shaggy silver hair, and the palest complexion you had ever seen. He bore a scar on his right cheek, just under his eye, and when he caught you staring offered a polite smile—probably to disarm you.

“Put the knife down, we’re not gonna hurt you, okay _chica_?” the what-you-assumed-to-be-Spaniard cooed at you, moving forward to take it by force, if necessary. He was stopped by Vincent’s arm jutting out in front of his path. Edgar watched from the side, not commenting but definitely intrigued. You figured that if Vincent had told them about your…predicament, either the Spaniard hadn’t listened or Vincent didn’t explain well enough the no-touching rule. Whatever, he’d figure it out soon enough. 

You narrowed your eyes, not moving an inch. You were scared shitless, sure, but that’s probably why you kept the knife firmly clutched in your—now kinda sweaty—grasp. You steadied your breathing before practically snarling out, “I think I’d like to keep it, _thanks_ ,” and turning to face Vincent, you added, “I’ll be in my room, _with my knife_ , doing my exercises. Don’t disturb me unless doing so will save my life.” You waited for his slight nod—one that took you not that long to pick up on, and even shorter to learn how to detect—and gave a sharp nod of dismissal to the other two, before turning on your heel and stalking up to your room. You ended your entertainment with the sounds of a door slamming and locking, spending the next two hours shaking uncontrollably and trying not to throw up and cry. They were dangerous men, and Vincent wouldn’t always be around to stop them—or care enough to do it every time. 

After that, you demanded Dedrick and/or Oliver to be with you should Vincent bring Edgar and Alejandro over—you weren’t about to force Vincent to stop bringing them over, Jason had screwed up their lives by screwing up yours as well—so that you could actually concentrate on healing and not be tempted to carry around a knife everywhere you went. Even now, two months after that, the rule still held fast. 

 

It was on a rather calm day that you found you had the time to really miss your old friends and acquaintances. As you sat with your cheek in your palm and your legs curled to the side of you, the hole in your chest hit you with a sharp sting. You allowed this to be your pity party time, and began to openly sob. You cried for who you used to be, you cried for what you had become, you cried for the long road ahead, you cried for your missing friends and you cried because wow God could sure be a dick sometimes, you cried because you didn’t want to depend on these 2ps and you cried because it was unfair to them too. After a while, you cried just for the sake of crying. 

After your cry fest, you felt utterly exhausted, but the bit of relief you felt mixed in there was worth it in the end. You collapsed onto the couch you had been sitting on, curled up into yourself, and fell into another uneasy sleep. 

When you awoke, you were very displeased to find Alejandro staring at your face with his same smug smirk, Edgar tilting his head not far off curiously. You would have punched the smug bastard in the face—hopefully break his nose while you’re at it—but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. That same small voice lowered her shoulders in the back of your head at who you were at the moment—and for all anyone knew, for the rest of your life. Instead, you promptly burst into tears and started wailing. You were probably screaming for Oliver, but if anyone could make out what you were saying it’d be a miracle. 

You were not someone who found crying a sign of weakness; it just wasn’t who you were. You were a nation, you had had hundreds of years to become more accepting, and that’s exactly what you did. However, bursting into tears and screaming like a banshee because you woke up to someone you didn’t get off on the right foot with too close was not something you would be writing home about.

Quick as ever, Alejandro had his arms wrapped around your mouth and head, having jumped onto the couch and maneuvered so your head was in his lap. A better vantage point to grip your mouth with one hand and push your head into it with the other, if he did say so himself (and he’d be sure to let you know a damn lot that he did). 

You squirmed and wiggled like your life depended on it—and as far as you were concerned, it did—but he had one leg pinning down your stomach/waist area in a second so as to keep you still. This didn’t stop your hands from desperately trying to yank his much larger ones off your face, though he hardly blinked at your efforts. He didn’t even seem to care as long scratch marks—from your broken, gnarled nails that you didn’t have the energy nor care enough to fix—appeared on his arm.

“Damn _chica_ , I didn’t peg you as a screamer type of girl,” he teased, smirk only widening as he saw your heated glare. It seemed to only encourage him, and he continued, "And scratching? Vincent didn't tell us you were freaky!" Could he be any more disgusting? Probably not.

“Okay, let the _frau_ go, Alejandro. She doesn’t pose a threat anymore and I doubt she’ll make that much noise now.” Edgar cut in, hoping Alejandro dropped the jokes for now and let the poor thing go. 

Unhappily, Alejandra slowly released his hold on you, allowing you to dart out from under him and past Edgar like the startled little rabbit you were. 

Edgar watched with the same mildly interested look on his face, which soon turned to nervousness as he remembered Dedrick was in the house, too. Kid sure didn’t play around, and Edgar knew all too well what kind of fighter Dedrick was. Where do you think the scar on his cheek came from? Sure, Edgar had a million and then some on his back and arms, but the cheek he will never forget, and not just because it stared him in the face every day. 

“Oi! Tell Vincent we’re here, _chica_ , we got places to go and people to steal from!” Alejandro called after you, ignoring Edgar’s warning glance. They were lucky Vincent or Dedrick hadn’t shown up to beat some sense into them, or, even worse, if they had somehow incurred the wrath of Oliver. 

 

You refused to leave your room all day after that, even going so far as to put a chair under the door handle—you weren’t strong enough to be pushing desks around yet, and struggling against Alejandro had hurt you more than you’d ever admit. You did, however, allow yourself to sneak out and see them leave. When they caught sight of you and your heated glare, Alejandro sent a wink to which you responded to by flipping him off.

The roaring laughter of Alejandro, small chuckles from Edgar, and gruff, hoarse—hardly noticeable—laughs from Vincent were the last things you heard from the three males as they departed. After that, you darted away from Dedrick’s attempts to talk to you and blew past Oliver without looking back, slamming the door to your room and returning the chair to its rightful place.

Dedrick and Oliver shared a look, certain that this little incident had pushed your recovery back by months.


	4. Excited Bunny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why is Alejandro kept around? Will Reader ever actually recover from this, or is she just faking so she can get the fuck out of there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> v little america and do i care? no lmfao

You learned very quickly that 2p boys—though, to be fair, you had so far only met six boys—seemed to be very “hands on”, especially when it came to matters involving you, no matter how much you fought and screamed against it. More specifically, transporting you from place to place; they seemed to think you were too fragile to walk (and while that had been true in the first few days—the reason that Oliver had suggested you stay with them for a while—now it was more insulting than anything). After being constantly thrown over shoulders, carried bridal style, or even given _piggy back rides_ , you were sick of it. 

You were sick of them thinking they owned you, like you were just some fragile vase or expensive lamp that they didn’t want to shatter because they enjoyed looking at it. But you couldn’t stop them, you’d tried, and they just didn’t care. The small marks that you managed to inflict went away quickly, and caused little more than discomfort for them. 

In all reality, it hurt you more than them to fight back. And that infuriated you.

Oliver had been the one to suggest you living with them for the time being, and begrudgingly—and after a lot of semi-heated arguments—Dedrick agreed. Vincent hadn’t cared one way or another; as long as it didn’t interfere too much with what he wanted to do. All four of you—six, if you counted Alejandro and Edgar (you didn’t)—knew that soon you’d have to return to your own house, and find an acceptable excuse for missing out on so many meetings.

You were really the only one excited at the thought of leaving these grabby, greedy men (minus Oliver, though you can’t say you’d _miss_ him) behind and getting back to your old friends. But, on the other hand…

You, to be frank, were terrified of this prospect as well. Germany definitely wouldn’t buy any excuse you tried to feed to him, whether or not he’d pursue it you didn’t know. Seeing America again would definitely…not be fun. In fact, the very thought of seeing him and being reminded of Jason made your chest clench and your throat tighten. Seeing England, Canada, France, hell even Spain and Prussia again would be strange for you, and it’s not like you could just tell them where you had been and what you’d been doing. You wouldn’t be the same, and that would potentially ruin many of your relationships, it could even send your country into bankruptcy. 

You pushed the troubling thoughts out of your mind, and continued with your exercises. Looking into the mirror, you began to repeat your mantra, “This won’t last forever; I can get through this. This won’t last forever; I can get through this…”

 

It had been a rather pleasant day of cleaning up the backyard with Oliver, the winter chill nipping at your exposed nose and cheeks, the frigid air burning your lungs in a refreshing way every time you inhaled. Sure, your ribs were still pretty sore, especially after the surgery used to repair them, but you tried to ignore it for the time being. The other boys—Edgar and Alejandro included, much to your dismay—joked amongst themselves as they watched the two of you tidy up and make the yard presentable. For what, nobody really cared; it was something for you to do.

That’s when Alejandro began talking, and for the first time since you met him, you were 100% certain you’d kill him.

“I did some research on our _chica_ , and as it turns out, she’s not that military capable. That’s why Jason targeted her, in my opinion,” he began, and you already knew this wasn’t going to go in your favor one bit. A rage filled you like nothing you’d ever felt before, and you were sure it was because of all the violations Alejandro had just spewed from his stupid fucking face. 

He did research on _“our”_ girl? Who the fuck did he think he was? Declaring you were weak amongst people who could easily kick your ass, outnumbered you, and they were friends with a guy who _had_ beat the shit out of you was suddenly an okay thing to do? Fuck him. Fuck all of them, actually.

In the middle of his sentence, Alejandro found his head being hit rather hard by something kinda large and very painful. Upon further inspection—after he realized what happened—he found that it was in fact a certain female’s shoe. Looking to where you had been moments before, he only caught a glimpse of your retreating figure.

“Well, that can’t be good…”

“Fucking idiot,” Dedrick spat. 

 

You glowered at the wall in your room, Alejandro’s stupid fucking words ringing throughout your head. Was it your own fault it had happened to you? If you had only been stronger, would you have been saved from this? Saved them from this? If you had only paid a little more attention in meetings, if you had only listened to Germany’s requests, if only you hadn’t ditched in the middle of a meeting because of a little temper tantrum, if only you had been stronger, would things have turned out differently?

The words ran through your head a million times, a soul-sucking chant you were sure would be the death of you.

_If only, if only, if only, if only…_

 

Oliver paced the living room, wringing his hands and glancing in the direction of your bedroom every now and again. Dedrick sat in a chair in the corner, arms crossed and shades slung over his eyes; effectively cutting everyone out. Vincent was outside smoking another cigarette, Edgar was sitting cross legged on the floor, glancing from his feet to Alejandro, back to his feet, and then to peek at Oliver before the cycle repeated. Alejandro sat on the couch, arms crossed and hunched over; eyebrows furrowed after his lecture from Oliver. 

“Maybe I should go see how she’s doing…” Oliver said, mostly to himself, stopping for a brief second before he continued his pacing and his muttering, “no, no that would be a very bad idea at this point, I’m afraid.” He finished, sighing as his shoulders drooped and his feet stopped moving. Oliver was not a young nation in the slightest, but he was far too inexperienced to know how to properly diffuse a situation like this. I mean, it had been hours since Alejandro’s stupid comments, and after trying to plead with, bribe, and threaten you, everyone had decided to just let you be until you calmed down. But Oliver was afraid that maybe, just maybe, this was the last straw, and you were beyond saving. That you would slowly eat away at yourself until you became nothing more than a revenge-driven husk. That wouldn’t be good for anyone, not you, not the 2ps, and not the main nations either.

But Oliver really didn’t think that was the best course of plan, and so—against what everyone said—he made his way to your bedroom. Knocking softly on the door, he said a soft, “Hello? I’m coming in now, is that okay?” after waiting a few seconds and not getting a response, he slowly slid the door open. 

He was met with you asleep on the floor, in a sitting position and leaning against your bed. He clicked his tongue in disapproval and made to move you on top of the bed, but your eyes fluttering open to give him a glare made him pause in his steps.

“Go away, Oliver. I don’t want to hear it right now,” you said, tone defeated and voice shaky. That’s when he took notice of just how exhausted you looked. I mean, really, the bags under your eyes looked more pronounced, your eyes themselves were red and slightly puffy, and you seemed to just sag into the floor.

“He didn’t mean it that way, you know. Alejandro doesn’t know how to think properly, he really didn’t mean to-“

“You don’t have to defend him,” you began, effectively cutting off Oliver’s defense—shutting him up, “I know it’s not his fault. It’s not any of your guys’ faults. Well, some of it is definitely Jason’s, but other than that you guys are saints for doing what you are,” you said, and Oliver had to bite his tongue so he didn’t remind you that they were only doing this to save their own—and Jason’s—asses. 

“Wait, what do you mean some of it is Jason’s? All of it is, isn’t it?” Oliver questioned, giving you a slightly bewildered glance.

“No, some is mine, too. So Jason only has part of the blame.”

“That’s ridiculous, you shouldn’t think like-“

“Like what, Oliver? I shouldn’t think the truth?”

“You know that’s not true,” he pressed, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “{Y/N}, please, you can’t seriously think that any of this is your fault.”

For whatever reason, that had been your breaking point. “Fuck you! Fuck you, Oliver, you don’t know shit! I could’ve been stronger, I could’ve paid more attention, I could’ve done so many things but I didn’t!” you screamed at him, tears slipping past your eyelids and making ugly trails down your cheeks. For once, he didn’t reprimand your language, and instead slowly approached and kneeled in front of you. At first you slunk away, curling more into yourself and glaring at him through distrusting eyes. 

Even so, he opened his arms for a hug and you launched into them after a second, gripping his shoulders and crying into his neck, as he softly rubbed your back and hummed to help you calm down. You dozed off in his arms not long after, and he quietly tucked you in before going downstairs to let them know it was over. 

 

When you awoke, you practically had to peel your eyes open. You sighed into your pillow as you realized you had some apologizing to do, and sooner was better than later, in this case. You trudged downstairs to find Oliver happily singing along while he cooked everyone breakfast, and after stumbling into the living room, found out why. 

The four other inhabitants—plus one you had never seen before, but also didn’t really care too much about this early in the morning—looked hung-over like nobody’s business. You tried to stifle your giggling, you really did. Unfortunately, those 2ps have, like, super hearing or something, because all five turned to give you glares—varying in degree depending on who they are, seeing as Dedrick’s was one you’d give to a child and Vincent’s was one you’d give to someone who just spat on your mother’s grave.

Shaking your head and returning to the kitchen with a neutral expression on your face, you offered to help Oliver with his cooking duties. He simply brushed you off with a quick, “Just relax, dear, I can handle everything!” but you were not one to give up that easily and didn’t relent until he finally allowed you to wash the dishes as he finished drawing smiley faces in ketchup on everyone’s scrambled eggs.

“Oh, by the way, who’s that other guy in the living room?” you asked, your fatigue wearing off and your senses springing into a slightly alarmed state at the now one more person who knew—how much was anyone’s guess—about your current predicament. 

Oliver stopped on his way out the door to look back at you, a confused look on his face. “I didn’t know Vincent invited someone else over, must’ve been after I went to bed. I’ll tell you when I come back to grab the others’ plates, okay love?” he chirped, exiting out the kitchen and making his way to the living room—one because that was the way to get to the dining room, and two so he could see who this mysterious nation was.

The sound of a plate being dropped and shattering immediately told you something was horribly wrong, and you instinctively reached for the knife holder.


	5. Stubborn Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dedrick hates being like his brother, and he sees a chance to fix that. But she's stubborn and also hates that he's like his brother. 
> 
> He can be stubborn too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short but do i care? still no  
> also deddy boy here is such a doll

“I don’t think you’re ready,” he said, staring through your fucking soul as he stood in front of the door, arms crossed and stance tense.

“Dedrick, get out of my way, I have to,” you muttered, thumbing the strap of your backpack and meeting his gaze head on. Just because you couldn’t raise your voice for fear of him raising his hand against you didn’t mean you would let him decide things for you any longer.

“I think this is really dumb of you. You’re rushing into things and it’s only going to cause problems for everyone.” It didn’t appear that he was going to budge anytime soon, and you allowed your entire body to slump to properly convey how agitated you were at his actions. He gave a grunt in response. You were sick of all of them acting like this. For fuck’s sake you weren’t a child, you were a nation too!

“You’re gonna get your ass beat if Vincent comes home and I’m still here, ya know. And I won’t try to stop him; I’ll be cheering him on. So get the fuck out of my way and stop acting so entitled to me. If you let me go _right now_ , I’ll _consider_ leaving a key under the matt for you to check up on me.” You tried to bargain, really wanting to get out of there before Vincent came back. He and the other three had all left to converse with Cao (China’s 2p, you had wished you’d gotten a better look at him before Oliver hurried you and Dedrick into the kitchen and told you to wait at least ten minutes before leaving) and would be back any minute. Vincent had told you to get lost in that time and you didn’t really feel like crossing an already agitated Vincent.

“Yeah, I and anyone who sees me or you using that spare key,” he deadpanned, giving you an are-you-really-that-dumb-look. 

“Dedrick!” you groaned, hitting your head—somewhat lightly, but hard enough to get a quick exhale of breath from him—into his chest, the whining sound getting louder drastically by the second. It wasn’t what you wanted to do, but at this point you would do anything to get out of the house, and giving him a black eye really wouldn’t help your case.

It only took about three before he cracked, “Fine! For fuck’s sake stop with that noise before I claw my ears off. However, I have some conditions-“

“Wait-“

“-for starters, I have to walk you there. Second, you have to install a peep-hole if you don’t have one. And at least two locks, and change the keys because Jason is pretty sneaky that way. Only give a key to me and Oliver if you must, and make sure to never lose your key or have it in a way that’s even slightly out of your sight. Don’t answer the door unless you know the person, Jason has a lot of owed favours and will more than definitely cash ‘em out to use against you. Also, make sure to hide any evidence of us 2ps, and remember to lie a lot to your friends about your whereabouts and who you’re with.” He listed off, ignoring your exasperated face. He was worse than your boss.

“Fine, I don’t even care anymore. Let’s just get going so I don’t have to see Vincent any more than necessary.” You agreed, sealing your fate and agreeing to sell your soul to the overprotective ways of Canadian personifications.

“Awe, but don’t you want to see your boyfriend, Alejandro?” he teased, and got a nice punch in the gut for that. 

 

Walking down the street with Dedrick wasn’t as awful as you had first thought, in all honesty, though it could be less awkward. 

The last meeting you had attended had been held in America, and that’s where you had stayed. The 2ps who had stayed with you had had to travel from their home countries, and since a huge conference—that would span about two months—was only a few weeks away, they thought it was the perfect time to stick around instead of going home. Besides, their other halves could take care of the countries, though they were certain they were gonna be questioned when they saw them again. But that wasn't your problem.

Every once in a while you’d catch the slightest ghost of a smile on Dedrick’s face, usually after you had excitedly—and admittedly, childishly—pointed something out that you found cute/interesting. You weren’t so naïve as to believe it meant anything, but you also knew it was only because of his social awkwardness—what a forest boy, this one was turning out to be—that he acted so aloof about his emotions. 

You weren’t gonna say you had any real _fondness_ for him, but for probably the only time—aside from when he sheltered you from Jason—you were happy he was with you.

 

Walking into your apartment was not as therapeutic as you had hoped, in fact, it was quite the opposite. You had thought that being there again would calm your nerves, set everything right, like it was some sort of terrible and wacky hyper-realistic dream. Absently, you touched the wooden desk that held your notes for the next meeting—one that you had long missed.

You felt Dedrick’s hovering hand, as it unsurely placed itself on your shoulder. Reaching your own hand up, you grasped onto it like it was your lifeline; a silent thanks. He squeezed once, as if to reassure you that you could do it, before slipping out of your grasp. You could forgive him touching you just this once, as you took a deep breath and a step forward, into the murky presence of your practically abandoned home.

Stroking the walls and feeling the cupboards seemed the right thing to do, so that’s what you did. Grazing your hands over curtains and couch cushions, before moving onto things like throwing out rotten and expired food, making a list to restock your fridge and cupboards, and starting some long needed loads of laundry and the dishwasher.

You stripped your bed of its sheets, throwing them all in the dirty hamper to be washed as well. Sighing, you rubbed your temples in frustration; it was going to be a lot of work making this your home again. You felt like an outsider, the innocence in your house was too much for your now tainted self.

Dedrick awkwardly watched from his place at your kitchen table, and seeing your stressed visage offered to take you to the nearest grocery store where you could get some of the things off your list, and get away from the apartment. He also silently took it upon himself to get the locks changed, but you didn’t know about that yet and wouldn’t until he presented you with the new keys.

He knew they should’ve slowly introduced you back to the apartment, but since they hadn’t he could only make the best with his limited options. You left the windows open—but locked—as you grabbed your keys and purse and headed out back into the world with your self-decided bodyguard.


	6. Disarming Raccoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edgar isn't too keen on the idea of ditching his newest toy yet, either.   
> Cao doesn't give a single fuck about Edgar or his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end my suffer

Edgar smiled politely throughout Cao’s harsh explanation of why they couldn’t keep watching over the main nation, but on the inside he was not impressed. Cao definitely made good points, and Edgar had to agree with most of them—not as begrudgingly as Alejandro or Oliver, it seemed—but he was still stuck on the two points in favor of keeping an eye on her. Maybe he was becoming biased, but they were still valid.

One, Jason was still a thing. He never backed down on his promises—well, they were more threats than promises, but everyone was trying to go easy on Oliver. It was pretty hard on him to admit the kid he raised was an asshole—and he sure as _hell_ wasn’t going to back down on fucking things up further for the girl. How? That was the tricky part; Jason was very manipulative and sketchy. There was no doubt in Edgar’s mind that he’d end up screwing with her in multiple ways; and that could mean that the main nations found out about everyone’s little skeleton in the closet. This brings us to reason number two: 

Her well-being did affect the 2ps, and if things went downhill it’d be their asses on the line. They wouldn’t be able to defend themselves against the main nations, it hadn’t worked the first time and it wouldn’t work now. Because even though many things had changed, the mains’ advantage had not. If what Jason had done was found out, the aftershock would be a brutal and unforgiving mistress. The fact they tried to cover it up definitely wouldn’t bring them any mercy either, and though Edgar did like the girl—she was very interesting to analyze—he seriously doubted she’d go running to their defense anytime soon.

Cao argued that they’d definitely need to go back to their own countries or the mains would find out anyways. They also played a risk in watching over/hanging out with her, because really, a main hanging with 2ps? After months of no one hearing from them? Questions would arise, and nothing she could come up with would tide the suspicion over. Not to mention the fact that if they saw the 2ps, it’d be the 2ps being sneaky and overall shady about being around her. Who could believe innocence after that? No one. 

Cao also noted how it had seemed that Dedrick had gotten slightly attached to the girl—he gave everyone but Vincent a pointed look at this mention, letting them know that he knew what was up, even if they didn’t—and how that was not a good thing in the slightest. Not only for all the 2ps, but for Dedrick himself; I mean, how was he going to deal with never seeing her again after this whole thing blows over? Not very well, that’s how it’d end. 

Cao presumed that the only reason he was growing attached was because of a) guilt for what his adopted brother did, and b) this was the first “outsider” he’d had prolonged contact with in a long time. The kid was a bit messed up, and needed acceptance from people he thought higher than himself, which was probably why he preferred to address Oliver as his dad, and not Vincent. A “pure”, untainted main nation even tolerating someone as low as him? A dream come true. 

Cao assured a pissed Vincent he didn’t think the attachment was romantic in the slightest, but if this kept up that would easily become an option. For now, Dedrick just wanted her friendship. Another pointed look at the three guys told them that Cao assumed it was the same for them, though he figured they all wanted to get close to her for different reasons. Edgar refused to acknowledge the looks, and he doubted Oliver even noticed. Alejandro, however, just rolled his eyes and grinned whenever he got a look. 

Annoying looks aside, he pursed his lips in contemplation; technically, Cao was right. Edgar knew Dedrick longed for some sort of validation, but he also feared rejection above all else. He saw it in his other half—Mathew—and he never wanted that for himself. He was too afraid to reach out to those outside of his immediate contact—Nick (Netherlands’ 2p) and Ekaterina (Ukraine’s) included—but he saw their twisted ways in himself and just wanted to know that he could be okay, too. 

Granted, all that was probably because he was such a young nation; in the beginning he knew that he and the others had been the same;—Cao he was unsure of, he’d never known Cao when he was a young nation—he’d soon grow out of it. It would’ve been better for Dedrick had she been a normal human, who’d die and leave him alone so he could come to terms with the fact that the only validation he could have as a 2p was his own. 

But because she was a nation who seemed to be doing fine economically, she’d be sticking around for quite a while. So even though soon enough she’d be dead to him, he had to cope with the fact that no, she was still out there, just in a world not made for him. A world too good for him. 

That was how Jason had learned, though it was with a mutual friend of his and Alfred’s. Davie had brought a smile to both their faces, back when they were young enough those smiles weren’t clouded with mirth or regret. When Davie had died, Jason grew up real fast, mentally wise. He cared not for his citizens, because he knew they’d all die in the end, too. Another way that Dedrick and Jason differed—though everyone seemed to think them practically identical, minus the odd fact Jason got Vincent’s crimson eyes, and Dedrick got Oliver’s light violet—because Dedrick cared for little more than he cared for his people. 

Edgar closed his eyes and sighed as Cao and Vincent tried to work out a plan for what to do with their three growing problems, with Oliver worriedly wringing his hands and Alejandro thumbing his scar idly. All five knew that there would be no happy ending to this game; that just wasn’t how life worked. Not for 2ps, and not for mains, and not for humans. In the end, no matter how it all played out, they would all be affected negatively in different ways—some just more than others. 

His eyes instantly snapped open to stare incredulously at Vincent and Cao as they muttered their conclusion.

“Could you please repeat that? I don’t think I heard you right the first time.” He said, still staring at them and hoping he heard wrong.

“We need to speak to Edelmara, Kuro and Adamo. Those three are the most dangerous of us—with Jason making it a quartet—and also the only ones who can outsmart any plans Jason throws at us. At this point, they’re our only hope.” Vincent explained, taking out a cigarette and lighting it to calm his nerves. “Yeah, Hungary, Japan and Italy’s 2ps wouldn’t be our first choices if we could help it, but we can’t go to Ekaterina because she’ll skewer us for trying to take away Dedrick’s happiness,” he continued after a long drag and an even longer exhale, filled with smoke and a feeling of overwhelming dread. 

Edgar and Alejandro shared a look, with Cao shifting awkwardly to the side. All five nations present knew what it was like to deal with those four—or at least one of them, seeing as how four of them raised one of said nations and the fifth grew up with one—and it was definitely a last case scenario. Alejandro’s smirk soon turned into a deep frown, and Edgar himself felt his polite smiling slipping away to reveal something uglier. Those expressions mirrored on the nations around them, Edgar was finally hit full force with just how grave this situation had been all along. He didn’t think any of them were truly prepared for how gruesome it was about to get.

 

Jason tossed the ball into the wall for the hundredth time, catching it back in his hand only to throw it right back at the wall again, continuing the cycle. His eyes had dulled considerably, and he was glaring at the wall like it had been the source of all his problems. That was stupid, of course, because if it had been, he would’ve _crushed_ it, just like he was going to do with that girl. 

He really didn’t see why everyone made such a fuss with her; he’d taken small nations before. Why was this one so different? Whatever the reason was, Jason knew he was going to have fun tearing down her walls of safety one by one again. They were still so fragile from the last time he had, if they were even back, that surely she could never be completely whole again. And, this time, he wouldn’t beat her half to death right away, either.

No, Jason was going to torment her mentally and emotionally before he ruined her physically. If he had his way—and he would—he’d turn all her friends against her, and he’d make her the tool in doing so. They wouldn’t want to be around her constant negativity, her constant second-guessing, her constant paranoia, because the person they befriended was the exact opposite of what she’d become. In a way, Jason was going to make her her 2p self, every main nations’ biggest fear. 

 

After he was finished with that worm of a main nation, he’d go after his family, one by one. Starting with Oliver, because he knew that Oliver was too kind-spirited to attack Jason on sight, and Oliver was too much of a threat if he took out Vincent or Dedrick first. Jason didn’t really want to take on Cao, Edgar or Alejandro, mostly because they had ties in places he didn’t want enemies in. Dedrick would definitely be last, so that the dipshit could finally accept his place was lower than Jason’s, that he was no better than any other 2p, and that hopefully this ass-kicking would mean that he would stop chasing dreams and just accept his fate. 

Just thinking of the fight Dedrick would put up at first made Jason’s blood boil, and he could hardly wait for all of this to unfold. Of course, he knew he couldn’t jump the gun or everything would be ruined and his fun would be over. 

He smirked as he flipped open his phone, dialing an all-too familiar number.

_“Hey, Kuro? Yeah, it’s me. Say, I need a favour…”_


	7. Twisted and Kind Foxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With more and more nations getting involved, you're finding yourself shoved out of the spotlight. It kinda pisses you off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2p!America: Jason F. Jones  
> 2p!England: Oliver Kirkland  
> 2p!France: Vincent Bonnefoy  
> 2p!China: Cao Wang  
> 2p!Russia: Nicholas Braginsky  
> 2p!Canada: Dedrick Williams
> 
> 2p!Japan: Kuro Honda  
> 2p!Germany: Lutz Beilschmidt  
> 2p!N.Italy: Adamo Vargas  
> 2p!S.Italy: Luciano Vargas  
> 2p!Spain: Alejandro Hernández Carriedo  
> 2p!Prussia: Edgar Beilschmidt  
> 2p!Austria: Randell Edelstein  
> 2p!Hungary: Edelmara Héderváry
> 
> 2p!Ukraine: Ekaterina  
> 2p!Belarus: Anastasia  
> 2p!Belgium: Katalin  
> 2p!Netherlands: Nick  
> 2p!Taiwan: Chen  
> 2p!Hong Kong: Zixin  
> 2p!Sealand: Toby Kirkland  
> 2p!Seychelles: Michelle
> 
> 2p!Iceland: Egil  
> 2p!Norway: Asvald  
> 2p!Denmark: Christoffer 
> 
> I'll post this over the next few chapters tbh

Oliver continued wringing his hands while Vincent talked on the phone with Zixin. Dedrick sat on the floor next to Edgar, the two of them looking up at the (now) taller nations quizzically. Nobody had been able to get a hold of Alejandro, and though only Edgar and Dedrick knew about his constant presence at {Y/N}’s apartment, Vincent had a very good idea of where he was. This of course, caused his temper to be considerably shorter than usual, which was kind of terrible for anyone who had to be around him. Oliver wasn’t an idiot, and could guess where the missing member of their weird little alliance was, but he was far more concerned with calming down Vincent and ensuring little {Y/N}’s safety. 

After hanging up, Vincent turned to look at the three other nations with an unimpressed look, “Kuro is allied with Jason, Zixin says. We can’t count on him, and Cao’s currently trying to reach Adamo and Edelmara before Kuro does. Neither Chen nor Zixin are willing to give us more information at this point, under instruction from Cao.” 

This news did not circulate well, and Edgar was immediately jumping up to call his very beloved—only by him—little brother; nobody made a move to stop him. Lutz wouldn’t be a bad ally to have in all this. Even though nobody could stand his perverse ways for very long—minus Kuro, Adamo, and Edgar himself—ties were everything in this game. However, the more people they got involved the messier it would get, a point Oliver cautiously approached.

“So are all the 2ps aware of what’s going on now? Or is it just most of them? And how long before all of them get involved?” he asked, glancing from Vincent to Dedrick in a hope to get some input from them. 

“Yeah, most of them are aware by now. Nick called this morning to let me know that he, Ekaterina, Edelmara, and Katalin are aware of what’s happening and our involvement. For now, they’re planning on keeping an eye on things but not necessarily interfering. Edelmara may change her mind however, so we should call Randell and get him involved so she’ll be more inclined to help our cause; to keep him out of trouble more than anything.” Dedrick said, looking at Oliver expectantly. There was no way a “muscle-brained jock” like Randell would ever listen to Dedrick or Vincent, but Randell did have a soft spot for Oliver. 

“Alright, if you think it’ll help, I’ll call Randell now. Vincent, love, could you please call Cao and let him know? I’m sure Chen’s been keeping him updated—unwillingly—but we need to tell him our little plan. Edelmara could be a good source in getting both Lutz and Adamo, too, right?” 

“Cao’s line is busy, probably talking to Adamo right now. I’ll call Zixin back and let him know, though. We need to fix this as fast as possible. Dedrick, stop being so fucking useless and go collect Alejandro,” Vincent barked out, already redialing Zixin’s number and putting the phone to his ear. 

Oliver copied his actions, and patiently listened to the ringing before a short click sounded out and Randell’s flirty voice filtered through the phone.

“Oliver~! You don’t call me enough; I couldn’t invite you to my last game! We kicked the opposing teams ass, and of course I was voted MVP-“

“I’m so sorry to cut you short Randell, but you can tell me all about your amazing performance at my house. Would that be alright? I know this is quite sudden, but I really need you here so as to talk to you about a very pressing matter-“

“Of course, why didn’t you say so sooner? You’re so cute with your polite front, Oliver. I’ll be over soon. I’d bring Edelmara, but she said she had to meet with Cao and Kuro today!” Randell cooed, before hanging up so he could dress to impress his not-so-secret crush. 

Dedrick had left before he’d had to endure the torture that was Oliver and Randell talking, and Vincent had been busy explaining to Zixin that he needed to relay this new information to Cao. Oliver was glad the other two were gone, so he could regain his composure and force the blush from his cheeks.

“Lutz said he’d come over with Adamo, but Adamo couldn’t stay too long because Cao summoned him.” Edgar said, reappearing from the other room and sighing in relief. So far, only Edelmara seemed to be answering Kuro’s call, and if things were to go the ideal way, everyone would choose their side. The more likely thing to happen, however, was for Edelmara to choose both sides. 

 

When Dedrick slipped inside your apartment, he wasn’t all that surprised to find Alejandro trying to charm you, and you looking a cross between disinterested and annoyed. He cleared his throat in a way that clearly conveyed his dissatisfaction. You perked right up at hearing him, and shot him a big smile. 

“Hey loser, what’s happening?” you asked, shrugging your shoulder free of Alejandro’s arm—to which he pouted at you—as you got up to stand by Dedrick. Really you were just glad he had given you an excuse to get away from Alejandro, but you’d never admit that out loud. You were fairly sure it was obvious anyways. 

“Prince Charming over here’s been summoned, by Vincent, so he should get his ass back to Oliver and Vincent’s.” Dedrick said, giving Alejandro the look. You deadpanned. 

“Both of you are going back, right now. Shoo, I have shit to do and you guys need to be present for whatever the fuck is happening.” You snapped, entirely done with these two and their bravado bullshit. It was one thing to not get along that well, you get that. But they’re acting like five year olds and you won’t have that shit in your house. 

Begrudgingly, Dedrick and Alejandro left the apartment through the back door—which lead directly outside, and while it was faster than going through the front, it was inherently more dangerous in being spotted—while you watched them with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. What had started as very imposing and scary nations babysitting you had quickly developed into you babysitting children who loved to throw tantrums. You sighed; collapsing back onto your couch to enjoy the limited peace you were granted.

 

Once they were back in Oliver’s house, they realized that they’d arrived a little later than Randell. This was of no inconvenience of them, because Adamo and Lutz had yet to arrive, so they could still make the living room barren of any potential weapons. They weren’t fond of risking someone else losing an arm at such a critical time.

“Oh, hello Dedrick, Alejandro,” Randell greeted; obviously only being polite because the two of them were Oliver’s friends, and if they hadn’t been he wouldn’t have spared them a second glance, “Oliver said we were waiting for you and Lutz and Adamo to show up to talk about the pressing matter. Why’s that?” 

“Yes, please do tell why you called us out here, Alejandro,” Adamo’s voice floated through the air, and Alejandro tensed automatically. He and Dedrick turned to face the two newest arrivals, one smirking and the other looking utterly bored.

“Lutz!” Edgar practically shouted, springing at his little brother and giving him the biggest bear hug anyone had ever seen. Lutz had to take a couple steps back from the sheer force of Edgar’s adoration, and as he hugged him back rather bewilderedly Adamo side-eyed them in about as neutral a way as he could manage. 

This had given Dedrick and Alejandro the time to retreat to the other side of the room, where their backs wouldn’t be exposed to Adamo. Oliver and Vincent stood beside them, with Randell hovering protectively near Oliver—though it was kinda pointless, seeing as how Vincent could match Adamo in a fight if it came down to it—and Edgar making his way back to stand near them. 

“Hurry up and explain the problem, bruder, I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.” Lutz commanded, glaring at Edgar expectantly. He jumped and immediately began to explain, ignoring Alejandro and Vincent’s looks of disgust.

“Right, okay, so we all know Jason and how stupid he can be, right?”

“Amen to that,” Adamo chimed in, and Edgar slid his eyes over to him briefly before continuing. 

“So, he kidnapped another small main nation. Usually this’d be no problem, he does it all the time and no main has ever found out. However, this time he kidnapped his counterpart’s best friend, and so if we had just left her she definitely would’ve been scarred and had no way of pretending things were fine with Alfred. This would obviously be bad for us in the long run. So when Dedrick and Oliver heard rumors from the mains about Alfred’s close friend, the small nation, going missing, they immediately went to investigate. Upon finding her, Oliver made it very clear she’d have to stay with us while she healed.

“Now, she’s mostly healed, but Jason’s on the loose and made it very clear he wasn’t going to just drop them ruining his fun. He won’t go after any of us besides Vincent, Dedrick, Oliver and the girl, because frankly we aren’t worth his time and we weren’t main contributors in the dissolving of his fun. So if you’re worried about ties, there’s really nothing there to worry about. He won’t give a shit who helps them, in the long run. And he understands anyone who does is most likely doing it out of owed favours or out of trying to save their own asses. So, long story short: we need to beat some sense into this kid, but none of us are smart enough to outsmart him and definitely not hI'm and Kuro combined.” Edgar prattled off, counting points on his fingers as he explained the risks Jason had made. 

"What a fuckin’ idiot, makin’ all these problems for us,” Adamo sighed, rubbing his forehead irritably. Edgar and Alejandro knew him well enough to know that that was a confirmation on his part. 

“We’ll help you out, I assume Cao will just give us a more detailed version and start laying out a plan with us?” Lutz asked, looking to Vincent for the answer. He knew his brother was the only one—besides Kuro and Adamo, though for completely different reasons—who tolerated him, but he also knew Vincent was the one who would be organizing—with the help of Cao—a way out of this mess.

“Yeah, now get the fuck out of here and keep quiet about all this. Not like everyone doesn’t already know, but we don’t need too many more people involved.” Vincent said, and Lutz sniffed in a rather indignant way. 

As Adamo and Lutz made their leave—Alejandro slowly easing up and Edgar calling out a loving goodbye—Dedrick’s phone rang; flipping it open he was met with the cold voice of Ekaterina. 

“I hear your brother has gotten you into quite the mess,” she stated, and he could feel her hatred rolling off in waves.

Ekaterina had always been rather possessive and controlling when it came to nations she had contact with, like Nicholas, Anastasia, and sometimes even Dedrick himself. She was, now more apparent than ever, going to do all in her power to keep Jason out of trouble, simply to try and win Dedrick’s favour once again.

“What are you playing here, Ekaterina?” he mumbled, hoping she wouldn’t say what he knew she was going to.

“Anastasia is en route. You will tell her where she can most likely find Jason. Goodbye, keep me updated or you’ll realize Jason is not your biggest problem, I’m sure Katyusha would love to hear all about little {Y/N}’s adventures.” The next thing he heard was the click of the phone being hung up on him. 

He sighed as he pocketed his phone, muttering a long string of curses. Sure, he liked Ekaterina and she had her good points, but he couldn’t help but feel an immense amount of pity for Anastasia, who had more scars than Edgar. She was always the bait, always the messenger, always the distraction, and she never spoke ill of anyone for it. Well, she didn’t speak period. 

Anastasia was deaf, and used sign language/her notepad and pens to communicate to the other nations. She hadn’t been born deaf; and Dedrick vaguely remembered a time when she used to sing for 2p and main nations alike. She had lost her hearing after Ekaterina used her as a distraction so she could escape unharmed. Anastasia, the kind soul she was, had never blamed for it, and would often talk essays of how grateful she was that Ekaterina kept her around. It was all quite sad, really. Anastasia was not built for their world, and Dedrick wished he wasn’t jealous of that.

He turned to tell the others the news, but with Vincent arguing with Edgar, Alejandro trying not to start crying, and Randell trying to woo Oliver, Dedrick decided it would be better if he waited for Anastasia outside. No one noticed as he slipped out the door.


	8. Greedy Pig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cao is probably the best person to be bossing everyone around; he's the most organized and the wisest out of everyone.  
> But even he can't get Alejandro to fuck off and leave you alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this series is a mess but thats kinda the point

Cao was definitely not impressed at the bad news Chen had given him concerning where Kuro’s affiliations lied in the current problem storming all 2p nations alike. Thanks to Jason’s selfish reasons, more and more 2ps were finding out about the main nation girl and her dealings with the 2p F.A.C.E (and co) group, and very few were impressed. Cao had—unfortunately, it seemed everyone learned that he, too, was in this mess—received many angry calls and visits regarding these new facts.

To make matters worse, he knew Alejandro wasn’t listening to his _clear_ instructions of leaving the little main be unless necessary. The idiot Spaniard was going to get them caught by the mains, and then where would they be? In a shitton more trouble, that’s where. Though it was true Cao could care less if the dumbass got himself in trouble, Cao’s ass was on the line, too, and by extension, his business. 

He rubbed his eyes and groaned; the stress toll due to idiots he had to work with was seriously weighing on him. He was no sucker when it came to illegal doings and business, but this had to be his hardest job yet. Not to mention, now Nicholas was breathing down his neck—in the scared, awkward way only Nicholas could—about Jason and Kuro, and whoever else those two had managed to sucker into joining them. They really needed to get Edelmara and Adamo, but with both Adamo and Lutz’s ties to Kuro it may already be too late. And if Jason has Adamo, Edelmara wouldn’t be too long after. His head was spinning as he tried to make sense of the clusterfuck he was designated to sort out.

Cao groaned yet again, dialed Adamo’s number—while instructing Chen (who glared at him for involving her further) to phone Edelmara and convince her to meet with him—and prayed the crazy bastard would at least have the courtesy to come see him. Most nations did; he and his siblings were never taken lightly. 

“Yes?” Adamo answered, and Cao sighed, “Adamo, I would like for you to meet with me concerning something you’ve probably heard some rumours about,” Cao said, closing his eyes and leaning his head back onto the chair, noting Chen’s voice as she conversed with Edelmara.

“Ah, of course; I’d be more than happy to talk to _you_ about that, Cao~! I’ll be over later today, tell Chen I can’t wait to see her again~.” he said, hanging up directly after. Cao grimaced, but removed the phone from his ear feeling a lot less worried. 

“Edelmara agreed to meet with us, but she’s meeting with Kuro and Jason shortly after,” Chen said in her flat voice, idly texting Katalin to see what the Belgian was doing about the mess—for future reference should they need it. 

“Vincent has good news, it seems. Lutz and Adamo are to visit with them shortly before they visit with us, and Randell is already with them. If Oliver can get Randell on our side—and he can—Edelmara will almost certainly agree. However, we do have concern with some of the more arctic nations, as Toby tells us. The Nordics seem restless lately, and knowing their ties with Dedrick will probably use that as an excuse to cause more trouble,” Zixin added, picking the dirt out of his nails as he talked.

“Very well, you two are dismissed. Oh, and, if Nicholas is still out there, send him in.” Cao said, showing his dismissal with a wave of his hand. The two nations nodded and left on quick feet, and Cao (unfortunately) heard Chen invite the visitor inside the room.

“Ah, hello Cao, I’m sorry to bother you, but, uh, there’s some issues coming up again…” Nicholas greeted his long-time friend, shuffling awkwardly on his too large feet.

“What is it now, Braginsky? I have enough problems with the act that Jason is putting on, it’s like he’s trying to get caught,” 

“Well, that’s just it, uh, you see, Jason is trying to get caught…” 

Could this guy not speak in proper sentences? Cao had to subdue the urge to roll his eyes, before the words actually registered in his head.

“ _What_ did you just say?” he snarled, already flipping his phone open to let Vincent and the others know. 

Though he flinched at Cao’s sudden aggressive attitude, Nicholas was not surprised by it, “Jason wants to start something he, uh, can’t finish again...He wants to ruin the main nation girl again, and uh, keep her under lock and key again…He wants to, uh, see what’ll happen with his game if he does that…” Nicholas practically spelled out, shifting uncomfortably again. He hoped Cao wouldn’t ask where he got this information, but also knew that hope was futile. Cao’s next comments confirmed that.

“How do you know all this? You do know what this information—if it proves to be true—means don’t you?” Cao urged, standing up and leaning over the desk with his hands still gripping the edge. “You do know what we need to do then, don’t you?”

“He, uh, wanted me to, uh, help him…I, uh, agreed-“

The look on Cao’s face managed to cause Nicholas’s falter for a few seconds, before he continued on.

“-so that I could, uh, monitor the kid’s plans, and uh, inform you if they got too brash…” he finished, watching Cao’s fingers twitch and worried he might break the phone in his hand. 

“You did well, Nicholas. Keep me informed, and whatever you do, don’t get caught. That kid’ll slaughter you,” Cao dismissed, and Nicholas left with hardly a nod. 

Storming from his desk to the window on the other side of the room, Cao impatiently waited for Vincent to pick up. Without bothering to hear what Vincent had to say after the click went, he blurted out, “Jason is going to try and get caught. Nicholas is working as a spy for him; do not tell anyone else over the phone after this. Kuro is not that fast, but he will definitely have bugs up by tonight. My first thing will be to get Adamo to get blockers, don’t worry. He’s still targeting that girl, but we know he won’t be as obvious this time. Perhaps now it’s a good thing Alejandro refuses to leave the poor thing alone.” 

“Slow down, Cao, you’re not making any sense,” Vincent’s gruff voice sounded through the speakers, and Cao realized he was probably drinking by this point, “what do you mean “get caught”, like, by the main nations?” 

“Yes, and he won’t stop at just that. He’ll get all of us in bad positions because we tried to cover his first crime up.” 

“Shit, okay, I’ll tell Alejandro and Dedrick to-

“Where the fuck did that kid go now?” 

Cao, being the smart guy he was, managed to figure out that Dedrick had once again taken off without telling anyone what was happening.

“Vincent we don’t have time, send Alejandro over now and relay the information to Dedrick when you can. Call his cell and tell him to get his ass home, but no more. I’m leaving now, I believe Adamo is here. I can hear Chen’s bloodlust and need to kill him from miles away.” Cao said, hanging up before Vincent could verbally agree. 

Chen opened the door without knocking, which would’ve been weird if anyone but Adamo had been in her presence. “Your _esteemed guests_ are here,” she spat, turning on her heel and marching back through the door and down the hall, Lutz calling something crude after her.

Adamo strolled in quite leisurely, while Lutz walked in with his dumb “upper class” strut that got on everyone’s nerves. 

“We’ve already agreed, so what more do you have to tell us?” Lutz said, in his oh-so condescending voice. Cao had never disliked a nation more, to be frank.

“Jason’s changed things up, once again. Adamo, we’ll need blockers as soon as possible, and there’s something you’re not gonna like.” Cao paused, staring Adamo down so he knew how serious he was about this.

“Jason, from this point out, is going to try his hardest to get caught by the mains, and drag all of us down with him.” 

 

Chen and Zixin relaxed in the room they shared, Chen smoking a cigarette and Zixin humming pleasantly to himself. He consciously picked songs he knew Chen liked, and she was grateful for that; contrary to popular belief. She played with his hair as he hummed to her, trying to coax her into sleep while he waited up for Cao. 

 

After all the meetings for the day finished, Cao found his way into Chen and Zixin’s room. When he could, he avoided the others, so it wasn’t uncommon for his downtime to be spent with these two. Chen was in a restless sleep on the window sill, Zixin still humming softly to her so she could sleep. Cao took his place next to Zixin, and allowed the quiet calm to coax him to sleep, as well.


	9. Punk Ox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelmara appears, makes great strides in figuring out Jason's "erratic" behaviour, and is promptly screwed over.   
> You're still nowhere to be seen as we take a glimpse into the world that's pulling all your strings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dance, fucker, dance.

Edelmara practically busted down the doors to the small meeting room Chen had directed her to. Rolling her eyes and getting out of there before Cao could tear her a new asshole; Chen left Edelmara to face Adamo, Lutz, and Cao by herself. Cao sighed and rolled his eyes, motioning for her to sit down in the only open chair left, the one next to Adamo, who sat in the middle chair.

Taking her seat, silently thanking Cao she didn’t have to sit next to Lutz—she loved the kid, but really there’s only so much a person can take—she draped her arms across the back of the chair, raising her eyebrows for Cao to begin. Adamo snickered beside her, while Lutz just scoffed. Apparently he didn’t like it when other drama queens showed up.

“So, Edelmara, I don’t know how much you know, but we’ve gotten a new piece of information you may find upsetting,” Cao began, “Jason’s plan, as much of it as we can gather at this point, is to get caught by the main nations, using the girl as bait. He plans to drag down any 2p he can with this plan, which is obviously not a good thing. Even if he doesn’t get caught, if this gets out, we’ll have a bloodbath on our hands.” 

Edelmara slowly leaned forward throughout Cao’s explanation, face going from confident and laid back to serious and pissed off. Adamo watched her through the corner of his eyes, subconsciously leaning away from her. He knew that look all too well, and wasn’t in any hurry to see it again. 

“So what you’re saying is,” she breathed out, fiddling with her skull clip idly, “either way, at this point, they win. Either the 2ps and mains beat each other senseless—again—or the 2ps beat each other senseless. What Jason wants is a reaction, per say. He wants people to get riled up and overreact, maybe just because he’s having a tantrum or maybe not. This early, it doesn’t matter, but it could be a good thing to know,” she said, mostly to herself.

“What we first thought was that he simply wanted to show Dedrick, Vincent, and—probably most prominently—Oliver that they couldn’t boss him around anymore, and that he’d do whatever he wanted; regardless if it would hurt others or not,” Adamo added, locking eyes with her as they began their age old tradition of figuring things out, “however, he may also want Alfred to see how easily he can ruin his friend’s lives, seeing as how Alfred _did_ kick his ass last time.” 

“And we all know how much Jason hates being shown up or told what to do, so maybe he intentionally targeted a small nation that was friends with Alfred, like you said, to show him how defenseless he was. To show him that he wasn’t that great of a hero after all,” Edelmara said, eyes brightening as the pieces slowly came together.

Lutz and Cao watched in quiet bewilderment, wondering where the fuck these two were grabbing all this from. It was likely, but they couldn’t rule anything as solid.

“Those are very accurate guesses,” Cao cut in, effectively garnering two glares in his direction, “however, how can you be sure it’s not just Jason wanting to make everyone miserable?” 

“Jason isn’t stupid, Cao. He doesn’t just drag down nations with him for the hell of it; he values his ties too much to do something so risky. You’re thinking more along the lines of what _Dedrick_ would do in this situation. 

“Jason and Dedrick are very different when it comes to vengeance, and showing people who’s in charge. That’s one of the reasons Dedrick is the only one who can successfully take Jason on head on. Jason prefers to make intricate, complicated plans that not only completely destroy his enemies’ confidence, but usually their relationships, their bodies; he likes to destroy their lives around them. Dedrick knows that and knows how to combat that; this is the first time in a long time he’s allowed Jason time to himself after something bad. Jason’s taking advantage of that, and taking all the past injustices against him he never got to solve—and therefore never got over—and creating a plan that will get rid of all of them in one go.” Edelmara said, effectively shutting Cao up. 

“I want to meet this _bella_ everyone is so hung up over,” Adamo piped up, holding his chin in his hands as a dangerous smile crept over his face, “even though she’s not the center of everything, she’s definitely the most important pawn we have. It would be _beneficial_ for us to meet her, Edelmara included,” he continued, meeting Cao’s glare without a flinch.

“Absolutely not; the less of us she knows the better.” Cao said, shutting down Adamo’s curiosity with a rough tone. 

“Don’t be so hasty, Cao, Adamo has a point. Tell me, do you know her? I’m guessing the answer is no, so I’ll continue. She is definitely one of—if not the—most important pieces in this puzzle, how are we going to formulate a strong enough plan to shut Jason down if we don’t even know all the loose ends?” Edelmara said, siding with Adamo once again. Lutz sat quietly in his chair, silently agreeing with the nations beside him. 

“Fine, we’ll all have a freakin’ barbecue together tonight at Vincent’s place. Edelmara, call Alejandro and Dedrick up, they’re with the girl right now. Adamo, don’t talk to Alejandro, period. Lutz, inform Edgar we’re coming over, and tell him to tell the others involved.” Cao sighed, ordering everyone around in the way he did best, “You’re all dismissed.” 

 

Edelmara had her own course of action, before making phone calls she didn’t care all that much about. First things first, she was calling Randell and seeing if he was already mixed up in this mess, because if he wasn’t she’d fly him to the other side of the world to make sure it stayed that way.

“Hey, Randell, it’s me! So, where are you right now?” she asked in her sweetest voice, doing her best to hide her worry.

“Oh, hello Edelmara, sorry, but Randell can’t get to the phone right now,” and with those words, her heart dropped. She could recognize that voice anywhere.

“That’s fine, thank you Oliver. Tell him I’ll be over later tonight, and that I’m on my way to see Kuro now.” With an agreement from Oliver, she hung up and immediately dialed Ekaterina’s number. She only called her when she was out of options, and this was one of those times. 

Edelmara didn’t like to not know what was going on, something common between people who suffer from anxiety disorders, and so she needed to know if Ekaterina and/or the Baltics were involved already.

“Ekaterina, it’s me. Tell me, are you aware of the current predicament a certain hot head has gotten a lot of us tangled up in?”

“Of course I am, Edelmara. Do not be stupid, it’s unbefitting of you. I’ve sent Anastasia to talk with Dedrick on the matter already. She left shortly after; telling me Dedrick had to do some errands with Alejandro and the girl on orders of Vincent. From this point on, Anastasia and I are involved as well.” Edelmara ground her teeth as Ekaterina kept talking, wishing this was some sick joke.

“And the Baltics?”

“They’re with Toby currently. It’s not looking well, in terms of arctic nations. Watch yourself, Edelmara; the Nordics are itching for a fight.” 

“Noted.” And with the end of that phone call, Edelmara hurried to the location Kuro had specified. 

 

When she arrived, she was greeted with the door slamming shut behind her. After such a long and stressful day, she was no longer in the mood for any games, especially not those of a nation much younger than she. 

“Now is really not the time, Jason. Spit your piece out so I can go home.” She muttered, knowing both Jason and Kuro could hear her just fine.

“Sorry Edelmara, but Jason isn’t here right now~.” An all too familiar voice cooed out, and she froze in shock. It seems they really had begun to take action. For or against the cause, she wasn’t sure, but the more probable answer was that they were doing this simply because there was an excuse to.

“Egil, I don’t have time for this. Cut it out and tell me what you want,” she said, backing up in hopes of hitting the door and being able to get out of there. She hadn’t heard a lock click, and with her eyesight dwindling—due to the pitch black room—she definitely would’ve been able to if one had been in place. 

“That’s no fun; we really shouldn’t cut the fun short! Asvald wouldn’t like that too much~,” she finally hit the door, and turned around to push on it as hard as she could. Hearing chuckling from the other side, she realized _much too late_ that only two of them were present in the room with her.

“Egil, where’s your brother? Is he in here too?” she tried, slowly turning around so that at least her back wasn’t facing him. 

“Why, of course he is! Christoffer and the other two are outside, they’re making sure our fun isn’t ruined you see!” he chirped from somewhere in front of her, and she could tell he was gradually getting closer to her. She had yet to hear from Asvald, but knew she was at a considerable disadvantage in the dark against these two. 

Without warning, Egil’s hand snatched her wrist, yanking her forward and away from the door. She tried to suppress her yelp, but it was for naught. Egil’s giggling could be heard from somewhere beside her. She went to back up again, but hit something warm and solid that was definitely _not a door_. Feeling rough hands grip her bare shoulders with more force than necessary, she knew Asvald had “come out to play”.

“Long time no see, Edelmara. How’s Randell doing lately? I hear he’s gotten himself into quite the mess due to his unreturned affections.” She heard from above her, and slowly tried to reach her phone without alerting the two of what she was doing. Feeling her front pocket, her stomach seemed to grow a rock at the fact there was nothing in it.

“Answer him, or you won’t be getting it back~,” Egil said from his same spot beside them, and Edelmara had to bite her tongue to keep her from cursing; the two brothers didn’t enjoy cursing all that much. 

“He’s doing just fine, thanks.” She bit out, trying (in vain) to break free of his uncomfortable grip. At her efforts, his nails dug more into her skin, breaking it in some places. She felt a drop of blood spill down her arm and knew things were only going to go downhill. 

“We’re going to play a little game; I promise if you cooperate it’ll be lots of fun.” Asvald whispered in her ear, making the hair on her neck stand up and her gut scream at her to just _run_.

“Can’t wait.”


	10. Possum and Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Stockholm Syndrome for the person who didn't kidnap you a thing? You might have it for Alejandro. Or something like it.
> 
> Either way, something tells you it's safer to humor him until you can get away from all of them. Unfortunately, he's getting way too touchy. 
> 
> You're getting tired of playing along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emotional baby boy, emotional man

Alejandro had become a constant in your apartment, akin to your bed (which you had to kick him out of on numerous occasions), your couch (that he slept on), and your fucking cabinets (that he always emptied). At first you hadn't minded him, but now he was becoming a pain in the ass. You were getting tired of being babied, and you wished he would stop trying to hit on you all the time. You were stressed out, you knew that things weren’t going good, but no one would tell you anything. 

He was especially terrible since he had been getting a lot more bold towards you, apparently since you were becoming your old "feisty"—his words—self again. Dedrick obviously wasn't pleased, and Edgar had long given up trying to stop Alejandro's petty games, but both of them knew you could handle your own against Alejandro. He wouldn’t try to hurt you at this point, as far as Dedrick could tell. 

That was how, one crisp, sunny day, you found yourself being babysat by Alejandro. By this point, you knew about Cao's plans and how he really shouldn't be doing this, but the insect wouldn't get the fuck out of your apartment. You figured you'd be stuck with him for a while. 

"Oi, _chica_ , look at me.

"Oiiiiiii~.

Oi!" 

" _What?_ " you snapped, turning to glare right into his stupid face. He was a lot closer than you expected, and you leaned your head back slightly in surprise. 

His smirk grew at your actions, and, just like that, Alejandro was kissing you. You tried to push away, but one hand grabbed your wrist and the other gripped your cheek painfully. To say the least, you were surprised, confused, and very annoyed. 

Seeing no other option, you bit his lip. Not a ~sexy~ bite, either, a full on how-d'you-like-the-taste-of-your-own-blood-asshole bite. 

He reeled back in more shock than pain, gaping at you in confusion while he put the pieces together. Then his smirk grew tenfold, and you felt the oncoming urge to actually break his nose. He went to lean forward again, but you pushed his face back with your hand. 

“Is one of your kinks pain or something? Because I’m gonna be frank I will _not_ be beating you to a pulp for your enjoyment. It’s for my enjoyment or it’s not happening.” You said, leaning back even more to annunciate your point. He just laughed at you and ruffled your hair, moving away from your hand as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Answering with a simple, “ _Hola_!” he stayed seated on the couch so you could eavesdrop. 

“Ah, so the _chica_ will be going back to the meetings? Well, I knew she would, but it’s kinda weird. Yeah, okay. Are you sure, isn’t that extremely risky? If you say so,” unfortunately, you only got his side of the conversation, and that raised more questions than it answered. 

He turned to face you with what you could only describe as a grimace disguising—very poorly—itself as a smile. Your face must’ve been pretty priceless; because Alejandro laughed so hard he slid off the couch. From his position on the floor, he decided to break the bad news to you.

“We’re going shopping, so you can have all new nice clothes, a new haircut, whatever you want! Jason’s paying, since Dedrick managed to snag his bank card a little while ago, but only told us about it now the little fucking twa-“

“Wait, what do you mean “we”?” _Please don’t say you, Dedrick and me, please don’t say you-_

“The three of us, obviously; Dedrick’s on his way as we speak!” the Spaniard cheered, ignoring your desperate protests.

“Vincey said that he didn’t trust Jason to let an opportunity of you alone in public slide, so we had to pick our risks~ if anyone asks, all you gotta say is that you bumped into us and we spilled something on your favourite shirt, so we offered to buy you a whole new outfit as an apology,” he said, and you nodded in defeat.

“Fine, whatever works, but speaking of excuses-“ and before you could go off on the little weirdo for being in your apartment all the time, Dedrick came shuffling in with his _fucking shoes on_.

“Get out. Now.” You hissed, glaring at his feet like they had murdered your hamster. 

“…uh?” he very intelligently added to the conversation, looking from a glowering you to a snickering Spaniard—who had reappeared on the couch beside you—, “Is someone gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“Why the _fuck_ are you wearing your shoes in my house? Either take them off or wait at the door, you animal!” you wailed, dramatically falling backwards into the previously mentioned Spaniard’s lap with your hand over your forehead. Dedrick just groaned in reply and stomped over to the door, getting as much dirt off his boots and onto your floor as possible.

“Dedrick stop throwing a fucking tantrum!” 

 

Fortunately for you, the only time you ran into a nation was when Dedrick and Alejandro were busy arguing over what jacket they thought was cuter on you. They were so distracted by each other ~~this is starting to sound more like an Alejandro x Dedrick story, in your opinion~~ that they didn’t even notice when you took off to get some peace and quiet. 

You had only planned on being gone for two minutes tops, so there wasn’t even a chance of one of Jason’s spies being able to relay the message you were alone to Jason and him get over to the mall before you were back with Alejandro and Dedrick.

“{Y/N}? Is it really you?” and there she was, looking rather confused to see you out in public. You turned to face Seychelles and offered the most convincing smile you could.

“Hey, Sey, how’s it been?” you tried, your smile starting to look more like a grimace under her pointed look. 

“Where have you been?” she demanded, no beating around the bush for her, apparently. You wondered that if you invited her to prank call England with you she’d drop this whole “you disappeared off the face of the earth for months” thing. 

“It’s kinda complicated right now, Sey,” you sighed, deciding to go with the truth without the 2p part, “I’ve had a lot of problems spring up. I’ll be back by the next meeting, and explain everything there, okay?” you said, pleading her with your eyes to just drop it and let you go.

“…Alright, I won’t rat you out, but you owe me,” she smiled, taking her leave and leaving you to shake in the store by yourself. 

You made it back to Dedrick and Alejandro before they noticed you’d left, and didn’t plan on telling them about your little encounter with an old good friend. 

 

When the three of you got back to your apartment, you felt a lot more relaxed than usual. It was a nice change from your constant feeling of dread, and you didn’t even try to tell the boys to leave because of this nice mood change. 

It was while you guys were enjoying lazing about the apartment that Alejandro got a phone call from Oliver. He and Dedrick had been sprawled out on your couch, and you had been throwing your new clothes into your room. When you came back out the living room, Dedrick and Alejandro had grave faces. 

“What’s up? Vincent give you trouble for still being at my place?” you guessed, wondering why they were still here, but not really wanting them to go that much after all. 

“No, Edelmara has gone missing, and we don’t think Jason and Kuro were involved in this one. Speaking of them, they’ve got a huge plan brewing that has garnered a lot of nations’ attentions, and now they want to meet you. So we’re heading over to Vincent and Oliver’s so you can meet them all.” Alejandro explained, Dedrick already moving towards the door.

“Holy shit.” 

 

Alejandro opened the door to Vincent’s, with you in the middle and Dedrick bringing up the rear like some sort of protection squad. The noise went from dinner party to grandma’s funeral when the three of you stepped through the doors, and you couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably at all the eyes on you. 

“Uh, hey,” you very lamely started, trying to find Oliver in the throng of people all staring at you intently. You thought you recognized the guy from your last day in this house, but ignored him. When you found Oliver, you saw a rather tall, heavily built guy standing protectively in front of him in a muscle shirt and basketball shorts. You were very confused, but when Oliver caught your eye he immediately made his way over, a reaction from his maternal instincts kicking in.

“Hello, love, long time no see,” he smiled opening his arms for a hug that you graciously accepted, ignoring Dedrick and Alejandro’s annoyed grunts from behind you, “Oliver, it’s only been, like, five days,” you laughed, squeezing him one last time before standing back up. 

One by one, people began to greet you in their own ways. Oliver disappeared from your side after a while, as did Dedrick, but Alejandro stayed. Maybe because he seemed intent on avoiding Adamo as much as possible, and when Adamo was with you, he focused solely on you ~~much to your chagrin~~. 

 

The first of many was Cao, and he was also the shortest time spent with you. He really didn’t seem too interested in you, and you couldn’t say you liked him all that much. With him were Chen and Zixin, and you liked those two a lot more. You adored their sibling bond, and felt a sharp pain in your chest when it reminded you of how you and America had been. 

After that Randell and Lutz introduced themselves, and you learned that Randell had been the guy standing so protectively over Oliver. After learning about his and Edelmara’s open relationship, and his worry for her, you tried your best to comfort him. He thanked you and found his way back to Oliver. Lutz, on the other hand, overstayed his welcome with you.

He was worse than Alejandro, if you were going to be honest. He was smug and entitled, spoiled and perverted, and you didn’t want to have another conversation with him ever, especially not after he kept trying to pinch your ass while you were talking to him. Edgar rescued you from him happily. 

Ekaterina and Anastasia were next, and theirs were very short and to the point (in Anastasia’s case, very short and sweet). You liked Ekaterina a lot, even though she was rather rough around the edges. You liked her respect-me-or-regret-it attitude, and you loved the way she walked and spoke with confidence. Anastasia was very adoring, and you could see why. She didn’t talk too much to you, but you figured the two of you were on okay terms. 

After that was Adamo. You got the creeps from him immediately, and it didn’t help matters when Alejandro hurriedly excused himself. The look Adamo gave you reminded you of a shark, and you felt your blood run cold and your face heat for a reason you couldn’t explain. He took a large interest in you, reaching out to touch your hair before you slapped his hand away. You didn’t do boys touching you without permission, it was disrespectful and wrong. He was only encouraged by that, trying to touch you for the rest of the time you two conversed, each time getting sneakier and leaving you feeling more and more vulnerable and weak. 

When he was done examining you, he left without as much as a goodbye. You were kind of thankful, but at the same time rather nervous. The guy just put you on edge.

When you escaped to the kitchen only to find Vincent there, you decided it was time to ask what the deal with Dedrick and Alejandro was.

“Hey, Vincent, can I ask why you’ve suddenly started allowing Alejandro and Dedrick to be around me? I mean, you let them stay at the apartment after we all went shopping and-“

“Jason’s planning something big. When Nicholas gets here we’ll let you know what that is, but for now, don’t bother me with your stupid ass questions.” And just like that, he was gone.

_What a dick_. 

 

When Nicholas arrived, he introduced himself to you very briefly before making his way to Cao. You figured Cao would be the one to break the news, so you got into a more comfortable stance. 

“Right, so, most of you here have heard the news,” he began and you figured it was Dedrick and Alejandro who didn’t, “about Jason’s plans of getting caught by the mains.” That managed to shut your thoughts up for a bit. You were in a stunned silence as Cao continued.

“Jason’s plan so far is foolproof, even if the mains don’t catch him he’ll still have all us 2ps right where he wants us; tearing each other’s throats out. The reason behind this, Edelmara-“ he paused for hardly a second, but it was still there, “-and Adamo figured, was because he wanted to get back at everyone he couldn’t get back at before, thanks to Dedrick’s keeping him in line. We speculate he’ll target the girl first again, but not as boldly as before, he’s going to try and ruin her life bit by bit, to show Alfred that he isn’t that great of a hero after all. To make it short, Jason wants two things: a bloodbath, and revenge.” 

You felt your throat go dry as almost every pair of eyes turned to look at you. Chen had been signing alongside Cao, so Anastasia knew what was going on, too, and even she was giving you a pitying look. 

You stared right back at all of them, anger in your veins and a cold nothing in your eyes. 

“I’m going home.”


	11. Small Fish in a Big Pond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're different, everyone knows it. You're kind of a shitty actor. 
> 
> You wished you could disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> make sure u kiss ur knuckles before u punch me in the face

You took a deep breath in; walking through the grandeur doors of the conference building, glancing once again at your watch to make sure you would undoubtedly be the first to arrive in the meeting room. You wanted to get there first so that you could just announce your reasoning to everyone at once, and not be late when you did so. That way all the attention would still be on you, but it wouldn’t go from idle chatting to dead silence. It’d just start at dead silent and remain there.

All of the maids/servants you passed gave you odd looks, knowing who you were and how you'd unannounced and unexpectedly dropped off the face of the earth. You tried to pay them no mind, instead focusing on the story you were gonna tell Germany and the others. Oliver’s encouraging words weren’t really helping at the moment, and you tried your best to forget what Alejandro said to you—that pervert—, so nothing was really distracting you that well. You were used to humans ignoring you, and you weren’t welcoming the change.

You settled down in your assigned seat, and breathed a sigh of relief when you pinpointed where America's was—thanks to the handy name plates you used to hate—it was over on the other side of the table; not in your line of sight. You took three deep breaths, and that’s when the first nation besides you came in.

Netherlands gave you an extra-long look—a whole five seconds—before sitting down in his assigned spot and re-reading his reports, seemingly uninterested. You knew he wasn’t however; his eyes would occasionally glance over at you. You felt a lump start to form in your throat, wishing he wouldn’t look at you with such an intense gaze.

As more and more nations came in, the stare count only increased. Luckily none of them were America; you weren’t very excited for that reunion. Russia took his place next to you, and gave you a pointed, “You’ve been gone a _long_ time, little sunflower. Everything is solved now, _da_?” you shakily nodded your head and he hummed and smiled at you, before returning his attention to staring at all the nations coming in.

That’s when you heard the three voices you really didn’t want to. 

“You bloody git, how many times do I have to tell you that’s a stupid plan?” England’s voice seemed to cut through all the hushed chatter, followed by a passive-aggressive French remark and an American shouting about independence. You almost laughed, your whole body aching at how much you had missed this. How much you missed them. Your nations. Your stupid, loveable, heartbreaking nations.

But then you saw America’s face, and your throat become too thick to swallow. 

Jason and Alfred definitely didn’t have the same hair or clothing choices, and Alfred’s eyes were a lot more beautiful and kind than Jason’s, but the facial structure was _identical_. The way he held himself, the way he walked, everything he subconsciously did was the same way Jason had. You wanted to cry. 

“ _{Y/N}_!” was all the warning you got before you were being suffocated in the death grip of a hug courtesy of one Alfred F. Jones. You tried to make your arms hug him back, you really did. But you knew if you did you’d start sobbing and that would only be bad.

“Hello, Alfred. Nice to see you again,” was what you said instead. You could feel him freeze in confusion at your lack of emotions regarding seeing him again, and he uneasily let you go so he could step back and stare into your eyes. You wished he hadn’t.

“Is everything alright, {Y/N}? You’ve been gone for so long and now you’re acting funny…” he asked, hands still gripping your shoulders. You did your best to keep your heart from pounding; this day had already become a huge mess. Hopefully your lie would cover all the angles like Vincent said it would. But it wouldn’t—couldn’t—erase the guilt you felt shutting down your worried best friend. Ex-best friend.

“I’m fine, Alfred. But I guess I should tell everyone why I was gone for so long,” you found Germany’s stare to ask for permission, and upon given a gruff nod you stepped back from America and faced the room, “my people were going through a rebellious phase if you will, and my superiors didn’t want me walking around in the open. They managed to hide it from the media long enough to settle the disputes, so now I’m allowed back out onto the streets and in meetings.” You lied, your voice light and your eyes serious. You felt no remorse in lying to them, knowing how terribly they’d react if you told them the truth.

You sat back down, ignoring the murmuring that once again broke out. America was dragged away from you by England, and even France, Prussia and Spain let you be as you sat in your own bubble, waiting for Germany’s yelling to break the words apart.

You figured you were only being left alone for two reasons, that being that a) everyone was being empathetic of how your people could make you act, and b) they didn’t believe you but didn’t want to push it at the moment. Or, a third option could be they didn’t want to risk Germany’s fury if they got out of their seats to nag you, and neither Russia or Switzerland—who had taken his seat not long after America retreated—seemed to care too much about where you had been.

You avoided looking at any of the nations whom 2ps you’d met. This included staring idly at your report while Germany barked out orders. Although, for once—perhaps due to the sullen environment you created in the room—everybody quieted down and _stayed_ quiet while Germany bossed everyone around. 

You scanned your report quickly, trying to determine whether or not this was the correct one for this particular meeting. You often pre-wrote your reports, but since you had missed so many meetings it had been almost impossible to tell which one was for this meeting. You simply grabbed one and hoped for the best. However, as people began talking about how their economy was going, you realized very quickly that this was not the report you needed. You decided then and there that when it came to your turn, you’d simply say your superiors wanted to keep the economy on the down low for a little while.

Germany had not taken too kindly to that, and you got a stern lecture in front of most of the countries. Ashamed, you sat down with burning ears and red cheeks. By the end of the meeting, your face had leveled out in colour, and you had pretty much forgotten the embarrassing incident altogether—you had much more pressing matters on hand.

Like, how the hell were you going to stay behind in a non-suspicious way so that Alejandro could walk you home?

 

When it came time that the meeting was adjourned, Germany, Italy and Japan were among the first to leave, although it had been apparent Germany wanted to talk to you more on the subject. Alas, Italy’s stomach won out and you were safe for the time being. Russia left you with a small smile and a wish for good luck, Switzerland left with Liechtenstein without so much as a farewell, as usual. America paused for a bit, trying to make eye contact with you while you desperately tried to look like you were doing something else. After a couple minutes, he gave up and left, chattering on with Denmark and Prussia, their respective groups all trudging along behind them, making small talk amongst each other.

Looking around, you found that you were indeed alone. Texting Alejandro a quick “it’s safe” you exited the meeting room, tucking your report under your arm and rubbing your eyes in a defeated manner. You couldn’t wait to go home and take a long, much needed, bubble bath. 

 

And so, that’s how many of the meetings came and went for you. Occasionally, you’d be seated next to America, but even he could sense your absolute dread at the thought of talking to him, or even looking at him. He’d never let it show, nor would he ever tell anyone, but it cut deep. You two had been best friends, so what happened? What could’ve possibly happened in those months you were gone that would’ve changed you so much?

He wanted to get to the bottom of it, but at the same time, he wanted to respect your space. During the lunch breaks you sat by yourself in a more quiet area. While once or twice that wouldn’t have been unusual, doing it all the time was disconcerting. Not to mention…

You avoided nations you had gotten along fairly well with like plagues, and every time you looked at Hungary there was this unmistakable sadness in your eyes. Your change of personality made very little sense to him, and he didn’t like it at all. You hardly ever smiled, and if you did it wasn’t genuine. He was so worried he felt as though he was balding just from the stress. 

 

After the fifteenth meeting, Germany had finally managed to corner you, and America decided to stay behind and eavesdrop—because he was worried about you, and it was the hero’s job to protect their friends, after all! 

“{Y/N}, you’ve been acting quite odd lately,” Germany began, tone about as soft as Germany could make it, face covered in an awkward blush, “you’ll suddenly look like you’ve seen a ghost during a meeting, you’re avoiding friends, you always come back from lunch shaken and pale, and you’re a lot more absentminded than usual.” Germany counted out, listing the points on his fingers as he pointed them out. From America’s point of view, he could see you get unnerved and begin to shift your weight ever-so-slightly, eyes drifting off to the side.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about, Germany. I’m just trying to get over country problems, ya know? It’s hard for a small nation like me to be shaken up from internal disputes like that…” you trailed off, eyes widening slightly at something you presumably saw from out the window. By the time Germany and America caught on and looked at the window, there was nothing there, and you were looking straight at Germany when he returned his gaze. “If that’s all, I really need to use the restroom…?” 

Germany nodded stiffly and dismissed you, watching you scamper away and out the door. America pretended to be listening to music and playing on his phone as you passed, but he didn’t think you even saw him. Besides, you had already stopped, and definitely weren’t at the bathroom. And now there was someone slinking out of the shadows and talking to you-

Wait a minute.

Instantly recognizing a key point in why you were so distant lately, America slipped into the meeting room as quietly as he could. Germany, who had been tidying up the chairs and table, sent him a questioning look.

“America-“ 

He was cut off by America quickly putting his one finger up to his lips, in a “shush” gesture. He then signaled for Germany to make his way over. From there, they both quietly listened to the oncoming footsteps and conversation you and your mystery friend were having.

“-and they’re starting to get even more suspicious, but I can’t help it, Alejandro! I see his face every time I look at America, and now, especially recently…I even,” though you were speaking quietly they could still distinctly make out your words. As the words of your companion urged you on, you continued, “I even see _him_ now. Am I going crazy? I’ll see a flash of his jacket as I’m eating alone, catch a glimpse of his rusty hair from around a corner, hear his laugh, see a flash of his bright eyes, it’s everywhere I look and it’s like now, more than ever, I can’t escape him…” at that point, the two of you were too far away for Germany or America to hear anymore. 

As they looked at each other, the pieces clicked together for Germany faster than America. 

“Isn’t Alejandro the name of Spain’s 2p…?” 

 

Germany and America decided to keep this new information quiet, so that no rumours could spread and possibly hurt {Y/N} more than help. Germany was handling the situation a lot more level-headed than America, who couldn’t stop coming up with wild and crazy stories. A drug ring, a deal her superiors made to save their asses, a kidnapping, and the list went on forever. Germany’s guess was simple: a secret relationship, a taboo one between a main and 2p nation. America thought that that was the worst case scenario. 

Whatever your reasoning, both Germany and America hoped you could get back to normal soon. They missed the sarcastic, trouble-causing small nation of {C/N} and they would do anything to get her back. Germany decided you just needed some time.

But America thought that maybe what you needed was a hero to push you in the right direction.


	12. Obnoxious Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your nations can no longer be yours, a thought tells you.  
> You push it away.  
> It doesn't leave.  
> You unwillingly get closer to your 2p "companions"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a kick in the teeth is good for some

You were starting to scare yourself.

When you had first come to meet Dedrick, Oliver, and the other three whom you spent most your time with, you were (quite reasonably) shut off. You had felt so cold and empty, like there was a black hole where your insides should be. Oliver had tried to hardest to get you to open up—sometimes unwittingly crossing boundaries—but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

This was not your England; this was not your America’s best friend/rival. This wasn’t your world and if you were honest, you didn’t want it to be. Dedrick was awkward and sweet, but he wasn’t what you needed. You didn’t even want to touch on Vincent or Alejandro, and Edgar’s constant neutral/inquisitive nature put you off. They weren’t your nations the same way the other mains were. There was no pulling in your gut every time you thought of the 2ps; there was no _need_ for them when it came to your healing.

But now, after months of knowing them, that hole was starting to be filled with warm, glittering stars that heated up your entire chest and glowed from your insides out. Oliver was like an older brother to you, as cliché as that was (you’re pretty sure this entire story is filled with clichés), Dedrick was undoubtedly your best friend, and even Alejandro wasn’t too bad. Most of the time. Edgar and Vincent were still iffy with you, but really you guys were just like one big dysfunctional family. The people who were filling those holes were not _your_ nations, and never would be. 

Although, the more you looked at it, that wasn’t really correct now, was it? Because these losers were your nations, and the ones who used to hold that title seemed to be fading into a distant memory that tugged at you every now and again.

And that scared you more than anything else. 

 

You called in sick to that morning’s meeting, too afraid to even leave your house. What if Jason was out there, waiting for you? What if he and Kuro and whoever else he had on his side were waiting to jump you? So you sat in your apartment, head in Dedrick’s lap and legs/feet sprawled out over Alejandro. You three were watching a scary movie, but you couldn’t really focus on it. Every now and again, you’d jump at a loud noise, and the other two would either a) mock you about being a wimp or b) pat your head/knee comfortingly. As the movie played through, and the ache in your chest grew, you realized it was probably not the best idea to watch a horror movie after seeing America so much.

 

You woke up to the sound of something very large shattering against the floor not ten feet away from you. Distantly you recognized Dedrick and Alejandro’s startled awake faces, and for the brief moment before you tuned into the world around you internally smiled at how all three of you fell asleep on the couch together like _huge fucking dorks_.

However, when reality did click, it was like a slap to the face. No, a punch to the gut was a more accurate description. Well, actually, it was more along the lines of someone hitting a baseball bat repeatedly into your ribs (and you knew first-hand how much that sucked). Because standing in front of you, shards of what you assumed to be remnants of a vase (the flowers scattered on the floor kinda hinted at that) at his feet, was Alfred F. Jones. 

His beautiful eyes were wide and confused, searching your face and flitting from Dedrick to Alejandro accusingly. His mouth was agape, opening and closing periodically as if he wanted to say/yell something, but not having enough wind to get it out. When the look of betrayal flashed in his eyes, you figured it was about time you said something. Not like anyone else was going to. 

“Oh, uh…hey Alfred, how’d you get the keys to this apartment? I had them changed…” you mumbled, eyes breaking his contact and staring awkwardly at the beige curtains to your left, peripheral vision noting Alejandro but not wanting to look directly at him. You felt Dedrick shift slightly, and realizing you were probably cutting off the circulation to his legs, sat up with your legs tucked under you—still not looking at Alfred.

“The landlord let me in when I told them I was your out of town brother coming to visit,” he began, and you could practically feel every guy’s want to murder said landlord, “but {Y/N}, what are you doing with the likes of them?” you almost winced at the snarl in his tone, and instinctively (thanks to many months of living with the nerds) knew that Alejandro and Dedrick were even more on edge now. Not that you blamed them.

“…They’re my friends, Alfred,” you began, already knowing the story you were going to tell in case anyone saw you with them, “it wasn’t like that in the beginning, I swear. It was just, one day I was walking down the street—trying to avoid dealing with my superiors because they’re assholes—and the next thing I know I’m on the ground and what I can only assume to be some bickering couple is staring at the stains on my clothes with a growing look of annoyance/dread. When I was going to pitch a fit, I recognized Dedrick from what you had taught me, and he and Alejandro offered to buy me a new outfit as long as I kept my mouth shut. Before any of us knew what was happening, we all became friends…” you explained, finally meeting his eyes and pleading with him to believe you. If he didn’t…if he didn’t it would all be over. Jason would have won.

As the silence between the four of you grew, you found that wow; your ceiling was actually _really_ interesting. Why hadn’t you noticed this sooner? You could practically stare at it _all day_ , and it totally wasn’t because you were too scared to stare your (ex?) best friend in the eyes or anything silly like that. No way you, the amazing and totally not a liar nation of {C/N} could _ever_ be scared of something trivial like-

Oh, he was unconscious now. You hadn’t realized this slightly important fact when his body slumped to the ground, or when the resulting tremble made you wobble slightly, or even when Dedrick and Alejandro started arguing in a very loud-but-trying-to-be-controlled way. No, you noticed it when you were going to ask him what you missed from the meetings, and saw his body lying there awkwardly with Alejandro standing over him and Dedrick standing in front of him all in his face and shit. Is this turning into a gay fanfic? Because if so you could totally get behind that. It'd be better than what your ass had gotten into. 

Incomplete thoughts you weren’t ready to blurt out anytime soon (I mean you did have some shame ~~kinda I mean if you squint~~ ) disregarded for the moment, you realized you should probably figure out what happened. Like, ya know why one of the most known countries was unconscious on your living room floor, amidst about half a million shards of glass and random flowers he was probably crushing. 

“So, um…what happened?” you asked, somewhat dazed as all the events and realizations and epiphanies swarmed you at once. 

“This little fucker knocked him out,” Dedrick accused, glaring at Alejandro ~~in such a passionate way your heart went aflutter~~ like the asshole just, oh I don’t know, doomed everyone forever.

“This bastard wasn’t going to do anything, and he wasn’t buying your story!” Alejandro very lamely defended, and even Dedrick couldn’t help but deadpan at his terrible excuse.

“And now he’s going to?” you asked, rubbing your temples and groaning as you slumped back onto the couch, staring once again up at your now a lot less interesting ceiling.

“Well, no, but…” Alejandro decided to save his ego just a little and shut up for once.

“We are so fucked.”

 

After stuffing Alfred into a small, cramped supply closet for the meantime—while you guys figured out what the hell to do—you suddenly had a very grim thought that made a cynical smile alight your face.

“Please don’t ever make that expression in my presence again, chica,” Alejandro said, staring at you with concern and disgust.

“What the fuck.” Was all Dedrick had to say on the matter (of which being your extremely grotesque expression, in case you missed it). 

“Well, I just had a thought that…Jason won’t have to expose us to the mains. We’ve already done it ourselves. Jason got what he wanted, he’s won.”


	13. Sneaky Rat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens in a short amount of time.  
> The events might have severe consequences on the rest of your little adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikening
> 
> {H/N} = her name

Kuro was definitely not impressed when he and Jason showed up to the agreed meeting spot only to find a nice little hand-written message, littered with hearts and shitty doodles of flowers, from a certain Scandinavian country. Jason was downright pissed, trying to control his temper by pulling at his roots—not hard enough to cause premature balding, however (too bad)—while Kuro watched from the side, rolling his eyes and snorting at the idiotic younger nation. All in all, Kuro was torn between scorn and a mild sense of appreciation for the infamous trouble-maker. He figured that while Jason was preoccupied, he could at least look around to see if there were any clues.

As far as he was concerned, the blood and note that was found were definitely not enough to claim the title “clues” or any variant. Tricky as ever, they had stopped her—he assumed it was Edelmara; it wouldn’t make sense otherwise—from bleeding right before leaving the building. It seemed they had no choice but to comply with the note’s requests, and so with blood boiling both him and Jason made their way to yet another designated spot. 

 

When they arrived at the shitty building, they were met with four identical grins and one cool stare. The complete lack of emotion in their eyes creeped Kuro out, and Kuro was used to lacking emotions. Still, when Egil motioned towards the two chairs in front of all the sitting nations, Kuro moved without hesitation. Jason joined him a couple seconds later, crossing his arms and huffing like a child. 

“Well?” Kuro said, deciding it would be best for everyone if he talked instead of Jason. Egil swayed side to side in his chair, looking at Asvald for permission to speak. The other three didn’t move, just kept grinning and staring. Asvald nodded, neutral expression remaining. 

“We want in~!” he cooed, clasping his hands together and squishing them into his cheek. Neither Kuro nor Jason said anything, waiting for more of an explanation. 

It took about two minutes of silence before Asvald elbowed Egil and he continued.

“Okay, so, we would like to be on your guys’ side during this little war thing you’ve started~. But we don’t necessarily want to be tied down, you see, because we’re using this mostly as a chance to solve our own issues. Don’t worry, that benefits you! We’ve got ties with Dedrick,” Christoffer’s grin grew, “and we can be your eyes and ears, figure out what they’re plans are and where the girl is~!” Egil was getting giddier and giddier, making Kuro less and less comfortable. 

Kuro looked to Jason. It sounded pretty good to him. By the look on his face, Kuro was sure Jason was on board. 

“Sounds good to us. When will you return Edelmara?” Kuro said.

“That’s a different matter entirely,” Asvald started, “she has unfinished business with us. Don’t interfere.” 

Kuro dropped it, Jason and Egil shook hands, and the pair made their way out of there. Kuro didn’t mind it was such a short meeting; he had never gotten on with the Nordics. Something about them had always come across as off, and he figured they were much too dangerous to get too tangled up with. 

Not like Jason was much fucking better, the temper-tantrum throwing brat. 

 

You were slumped over the back of your couch, listening to the yelling America pound on the tiny closet door. Both Alejandro and Dedrick were keeping it closed. You were surprised the door didn’t break between the two incredible forces. He was yelling for you, you noticed after a while. He was saying things like, “I’ll save you from them, {Y/N}, don’t worry!” and the like. You kind of pitied him. He was delusional, thinking that you were captive in your own home with these foreign nations. Didn’t he get it? You weren’t the same. 

That thought sparked an idea that made your stomach turn and your hands shake. You knew how to keep him quiet, out of your business, and away from everything concerning you and your 2p “buddies”. 

“Let him out,” you commanded in a voice that was not your own—or at least, used to be yours until Jason had gotten hold of you. 

Alejandro looked back at you with an incredulous look, and Dedrick seemed like he wouldn’t listen. But after a minute’s hesitation they both backed away from the door, standing beside you as the enraged American smashed the door down. You didn’t flinch. You couldn’t afford to. 

“What were you going on about, Alfred?” you asked, cold and calculated. 

“It’s okay now, {Y/N}. I know they messed you up. But I’ll fix this, I’ll protect you!” he declared, smiling at you with the most pitiful look in his eyes. You blinked slowly. Your heart was breaking all over again. 

“You want to fix things? Fine. Leave, and don’t tell anyone about this. You were right to disbelieve us. We’re not just friends. I love them, Alfred. I won’t leave them, and you’re not my hero anymore. They are.” You stood up as you talked, walking until you were right in front of America. There was shock apparent on his face. Confusion, too, but when you looked close into his eyes, there was something else. 

An anger that burned as hotly as Jason’s had. 

“You look just like him…” you muttered, and before he could ask, you were gesturing towards the door. 

“Get out, please.” 

Dumbstruck, he stumbled towards the door, looking back at you as he opened it. He paused, waiting for you to say something. You obliged.

“Goodbye, America.”

The final piece was placed, and America left with a heavy heart and dizzy head. You locked the door behind him. 

You kicked Alejandro and Dedrick out shortly after. You needed to be alone to mourn. The tears came fast and they didn’t stop. Images and memories were flooding back into your mind one after the other with no breaks. 

 

Oliver wrung his hands as Alejandro and Dedrick recounted their tale. Vincent spat angrily and stumbled into the kitchen to find another bottle, and Edgar looked as curious as ever. 

“Do you think she meant it?” Edgar asked, leaning his chin onto his hands as he looked up at Alejandro. 

“Obviously, how could she not love me?” he grinned, and Dedrick hit him in the back of the head. 

“No, she didn’t. She wanted him gone, and she was smarter than us when it came to what would hurt him enough to get him to leave.” Dedrick corrected, ignoring Alejandro as he cursed him out. Dedrick wasn’t 100% sure that’s what happened, but he reasoned it was likelier than the…alternative. He tried not to think about it. 

Oliver refused to offer anything to the conversation. He wasn’t feeling too good about the turn of events. Something was wrong with the story, with how little {Y/N} was acting. She wasn’t acting like herself at all. He wondered if it was a conscious change or not, but decided either way it was a very risky road to be traveling down.

“Vincent, dear, do you have {Y/N}’s 2p’s number by any chance…?” he called in to the kitchen, wincing when Vincent started swearing and knocking things over in his drunken haze.

Dedrick took a deep breath, curling his hands into fists and hardening his eyes. Even Alejandro and Edgar seemed slightly uncomfortable. When Vincent came stumbling out, slip of paper in hand, Dedrick decided to take a quick breather and go outside. Oliver flipped open his cellphone, and began dialing a 2p not many got to see. 

 

Being called up out of the blue was not something your 2p enjoyed. She lived by herself, secluded from others, for a fucking reason. Besides, she was taken advantage of too much. She couldn’t stop anyone from taking what they wanted from her. She wasn’t strong. She was just antisocial. 

So when she was forced to meet with not one, but five well-known 2p’s, she was discontent. She sat stiffly at the kitchen table, the five guys taking turns from looking at each other to examining her. She would’ve barked out a question, demanded an explanation, threatened them for a reason, but she knew that wouldn’t end well. So she sat and waited. And waited.

Oliver cleared his throat. She stared at him. 

“So, um, {H/N}, how’re you?” he tried weakly. She continued to stare. 

Vincent slammed his hands down on the table—almost knocking his sixth bottle over—glaring at her with impatience. She tensed and shrunk away from him.

“He asked you a fucking question, you stupid bitch. We don’t want you here either. Answer it and we can stop having to look at your pitiful fucking face,” he snarled out, and her face turned white with fear. 

“Just great.” She said, short and sweet. Vincent leaned back into his chair, downing the rest of his bottle. She stopped looking at him and didn’t look again. 

“That’s good, so, um, how well do you know your counterpart?” Oliver continued, ignoring Vincent’s appalling behaviour to decrease the chances of an all-out fist fight. Dedrick was clenching his jaw a little too much for it to mean anything good.

“Um, not that well, she didn’t want to associate with a 2p…” she answered, scared for where this was going. She knew about what Jason was doing, and she didn’t want to be involved at all. 

“Hm, yes of course. Say, can you tell us a little about her personality?” 

“Uh, well, she was very stubborn. She was friends with a big country so she had to be loud to be heard, but she didn’t really want to be in the spotlight, most of the time. She hated to be ignored or left out. She was very comfortable with touching people, and was genuinely affectionate with almost everyone; she saw the good in most people. That’s all I really know,” she offered up, hoping it was enough for them to release her. She didn’t like how pissed Dedrick looked, and she knew all about the other two so looking at them wouldn’t be happening. 

Oliver nodded and thanked her, and Alejandro dismissed her with a wave. She booked it for the door and didn’t stop running until they couldn’t see her anymore. 

“That doesn’t sound at all like the girl we know…” Oliver mumbled.

“She went through a traumatic experience,” Dedrick offered, but no one felt better. 

 

You were over at Vincent and Oliver’s house, because Oliver wanted to talk to you and didn’t want to go to your apartment. He was asking you a lot of weird questions, and you dismissed most of them. You weren’t really looking at him, and you weren’t really listening. 

Until Vincent appeared from finding another bottle (that Oliver had tried to hide). You two stared at each other for a long time, and you thought he was going to say something about your “boring” clothes when he surprised you. By throwing the bottle in his hand at your head and yelling about how you were fucking all his deals up. Oliver had yanked you out of the way immediately, so you were left to stare wide-eyed at a screaming Vincent while in his lap. 

Dedrick came running in from the other end of the house, and upon noticing the broken glass showered over you and Oliver, and the liquid running down the wall, took a swing at Vincent. 

You didn’t get to see much of the fight; Oliver was dragging you away as you stared at the scene unfolding in front of you. He handed you off to Edgar and Alejandro, who grabbed your arms and began to “escort” you back to your apartment.

“Dedrick…” you muttered, and Alejandro hushed you softly. 

“It’ll be okay, _chica_ ; we’re all just a little stressed right now.”

That made you feel a lot worse. 

 

A buzz on Dedrick’s phone distracted him from Oliver patching up the cut on his forehead, and he wished it was anyone but Christoffer texting him. No, actually, he didn’t want to meet up at midnight with him, and he didn't want to keep it a secret from his family and "friends". He wasn’t feeling that whole “go behind everyone’s back” thing at the moment. But you just don’t say no to Christoffer. 

 

Dedrick met up with Christoffer at midnight, curious but prepared for the worst. The arctic nation smiled pleasantly at him. 

“Hey, buddy, let’s make a deal.” 

Dedrick, for the first and probably last time in his life, wished Vincent was there with him.


End file.
